


You're Not Alone

by Symbio



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Coming Out, Dysphoria, Forced coming out, Gen, Trans Character, Trans Katsuki Yuuri, Trans Male Character, Trans Yuri Plisetsky, Yuri lives with Yuuri and Victor, and they love him like a son, supportive Yuuri, the media sucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2018-09-17 14:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 153,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9328601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symbio/pseuds/Symbio
Summary: When Yuri's biggest secret comes out, he's devasted and pretty sure his career is ruined. But with support and understanding from Victor and Yuuri he faces the media backlash. He's determined to let nothing get in the way of the quickly approaching season but it seems the world is throwing obstacle after obstacle at him.





	1. Of Cramps and Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really just me pushing my dysphoria onto Yuri, poor kid.

"Yurio, it's time for dinner," Yuuri knocked on the door to the guest room, which in all fairness was Yuri's room but the fifteen year old would snarl about it being referred to as such. 

Yuri startled at the knock, he hadn't been paying much attention to the time. Practice had been particularly rough that day and his body had decided to betray him in the worst of ways, cramps rendering him almost incapable of skating. But he had pushed through as he always did, he couldn't let the others know what he was. He didn't want to be seen as a girl ever again. A light knock sounded at his door again and Yuri realized he hadn't answered yet. "I'm not hungry," he shouted even as his stomach tumbled slightly. 

"Yuri," Yuuri's voice was soft, causing Yuri to frown, he didn't need pity. "Are you feeling okay? You seemed a bit out of it at practice."

"I'm fine," Yuri spat. "I'm just not hungry, you and Victor can eat without me." He couldn't be bothered to move or get dressed. He had taken a nice hot shower after practice and then proceeded to only get partially dressed. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders to hide his chest from view and he was wearing tiger print pajama bottoms and one sock. 

He sighed in relief as he heard Yuuri walking away, though he knew he would come back eventually. Getting up would mean facing Yuuri and Victor which would lead to one of the two inevitably asking about his poor performance today. Normally he was prepared for his period but it had caught him off guard this month and riddled him with cramps throughout the entire practice session. 

Of course he couldn't just tell them that was the problem, they would shoot him that pitying look had had grown to know and then before long they would slip up on his pronouns and call him she. They would ask to know his 'real' name, and he couldn't handle the thought of that. So he just hugged himself tighter and tried to forget the cramps, forget the two people who cared for him deeply as much as he pretended to hate that. 

About ten minutes later, by his estimation, Yuuri knocked on his door again. "I brought you food, it's piroshki, I know you love that," Yuuri said. "Victor and I made it, he's not as abysmal a cook as everyone seems to think he is. Can I come in?"

"Just...give me a minute," Yuri found himself saying, he really was very hungry. 

Yuri stood up and stretched, his muscles sore from being in one position for so long. His gaze feel down to where his binder was crumpled on the floor. It was the only one he had and it was just about worn out. He really didn't have much of a chest to start with, but he loathed it nonetheless. He had been so careful about obtaining it, measuring himself probably five times. Choosing when to order it was the hard part, he timed it so it would come in right around the time some of his costumes were coming in. Nobody noticed the small package and that was just the way he wanted it. 

Yuri picked it up off the floor and sighed, he chest always got sore while he was on his period and he tried to not wear it as much then. But Yuuri and Victor finding out was not something he could live with. He shoved it under his bed and threw on a too big shirt, hoping Yuuri wouldn't notice that his chest stuck out too far, curved too much to be that of a boy's. "Come in Katsudon," he shouted at the door. 

"Victor went out for a walk, he said he might not be back for a couple hours," Yuuri said as he stepped into the room carrying two plates of food. "Do you mind if I sit?" He gestured to the spot on the bed next to Yuri. 

Yuri took his plate and nodded without saying a word, careful to keep shoulders slumped. He ate quickly and set the empty plate on the nightstand. Something about the way Yuuri was acting gave him to impression that the older man had something to talk to him about. 

"Not as good as your grandpa's but I think they turned out okay," Yuuri smiled at him, setting his own empty plate on the nightstand. He was quiet for a few minutes before speaking again. "You know you can tell us anything, right? Victor and I, we're here for you."

"You wouldn't understand," Yuri said flatly. "And I don't have anything to tell you, I'm fine." His voice wavered on the last few syllables and he knew Yuuri would notice. "I'm...tired is all."

Yuuri placed his hand on Yuri's back and when he didn't flinch away he rubbed it in small circles. "I might understand better than you think, Yuri. We all support you no matter what. And whatever it is you're going through, don't try and say there's nothing, I'm here to help you through it. All of us are."

Yuri took a shuddering breath. It wasn't that he didn't trust them, he was afraid of what they would say. He was afraid of rejection. Of being looked at as something gross and wrong, a freak of nature. All of the words he had heard when he was younger. He was afraid he would hear them coming from the mouths of the people he cared about. But he was also tired, very tired. Hiding who he was for so long hurt him. It was like drowning out of water, but telling them could make it even worse and he didn't think he could handle rejection from anyone else. 

He didn't even notice he had started to cry until tears dripped onto his hands. Upon the realization he jerked away from Yuuri's comforting touch and wiped his eyes in a rough motion. "I don't need your pity," he growled. "I'm not some...some girl who cries. I'm a boy who doesn't need pity."

"I never said you were a girl Yuri," Yuri felt a cool hand on his cheek. "And this isn't pity."

"You saw nothing, Katsudon" he spat, wiping away all his remaining tears. "Go out, this never happened."

Yuri somehow felt even worse once he was left alone. He curled up into a ball and sniffled a bit, he couldn't believe he had cried at that. There was no reason for him to cry and yet he did so in front of somebody he looked up to, not that he would ever admit that. Yuuri had left his door cracked open and he could hear him in the kitchen humming away and washing dishes. He and Victor always seemed so happy just going about their regular lives. That's all that Yuri wanted, he wanted to be happy. 

After thinking about it for an hour Yuri padded out into the living room where Yuuri was seated on the couch, Makkachin at his feet. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but before he could speak Yuuri beat him to it. 

"I hoped you'd come out here," Yuuri smiled. "Here, I got you a chocolate bar, I thought you might be wanting one. It's dark chocolate, so a bit bitter but it does it's job."

Yuri would be lying if he said he wasn't wanting some chocolate but he regarded to action as suspicious. He still took it though, he wouldn't say no to chocolate. "Thanks," he mumbled, breaking part of it off and eating it. 

"So," Yuuri looked over at him. "Is there a reason you came out here?"

"Yes," Yuri stared at his lap. "I, uh, I want to talk to you about something. It's something personal and I don't want you to think differently of me because of this. I can still kick your ass out on the ice if you say even one bad thing," he added the last bit to keep himself from feeling too vulnerable. 

"Well, I'm not one to judge you," Yuuri said simply. "So unless you're going to tell me that you like kicking puppies or something, you don't need to worry about it."

Yuri laughed softly at that. "Nothing like that," he shook his head. He was scared, terrified even, but he had made up his mind and he was going to tell Yuuri. He took in another shaky breath and bit his lip before looking Yuuri in the eye. "I, um, well. I'm t-tr...I'm transgender," he finally blurted. "I was born as a girl, but I'm a boy. I'm boy," he bit his lip again and looked away. "Not that I expect you to understand."

Yuuri was quiet, too quiet and Yuri quickly grew anxious about it. What if he hated him now? What if he was going to laugh in his face? He felt a pit grow in his stomach and glanced back up anxiously only to find Yuuri smiling. Smiling?

"I'm happy that you trusted me enough to tell me that," Yuuri said warmly. "I know how hard it was for you to make that decision. I'm proud of you, okay? And I'm here for you, if anybody gives you a hard time about this, well they're gonna have to deal with Victor and me."

"So you're not mad?" Yuri was genuinely confused, he was expecting a much worse reaction. "You don't think I'm a freak."

"Definitely not," Yuuri laughed. "To be completely honest with you, I already knew. I've known for a long time, it's quite obvious if you know what to look for."

Yuri's eyes widened in shock," Obvious," he spluttered. If it was obvious then everybody would know, it was no wonder the other competitive skaters would tease him about being a 'princess' or something of the sort. He wondered how he could have been so obvious about it, how something he worked so hard to hide could show. "Who-who all knows?"

"As far as I'm aware, only Victor and I know," Yuuri assured him. "Some others might have their suspicions but none of them have said anything about it. Victor only knows because I told him, and I only did that because you've been staying with us. People don't notice it unless they're looking for it."

He nodded in relief at that, he couldn't quite handle the idea of everyone knowing just yet. But there was one thing he was curious about. "How did you know?" He asked. "Why would you know what to look for, what did you even notice?"

"Your binder shows out from under your collar sometimes," Yuuri told him. "Not super frequently but it's noticeable, also when you're wearing a tighter shirt I can see the lines of it. You get way too defensive about comments that refer to you as feminine in any way. You always seem a bit panicked about using public restrooms. And I'd recognize how menstrual cramps affect skating anywhere, and how you try to ease them," he listed off easily. 

"But," Yuri was very confused now. "Why would you notice all that?"

"Let me show you something," Yuuri said. "You've never really seen me with my shirt off, have you? I was wearing a tank top at that banquet and you always insisted on a private bath back when you were in Hasetsu."

Yuri didn't quite understand what the other man was getting at but he just shrugged. "Okay then, Katsudon. You take your shirt off if you want. Gonna show me how fat you've gotten," he teased. 

Yuuri didn't make sign of hearing his comment and unbuttoned his shirt. He tossed that to the side and pulled his undershirt off in a fluid motion. "Just look, you'll see what I mean."

Yuri was still confused and it took him a second to recognize what the scars on Yuuri's chest were exactly. Once he did though, his eyes widened. He had been so scared that he had never considered the possibility. "Oh, you, you're like me?" He mumbled. 

"Yes, I'm transgender if that's what you mean," Yuuri pulled his shirt back over his head. "I understand what it's like Yuri, that's why I noticed. You're not alone in this. There's nothing wrong about it. There's no one way to be a boy and you aren't less of one because your trans. Neither of us are," he offered him a smile. "Now, it's getting a bit late, you should be off to bed."

Yuri nodded almost robotically, it was a lot for him to take in. He had just wanted to get it off his chest, but in the process he had found somebody who understood him. "Goodnight Yuuri," he said before walking towards his room. 

A few minutes later Yuuri came in again. "I brought you a hot water bottle, y'know, for the cramps," Yuri took it silently but with a small smile. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here for you. Dysphoria, transitioning, any of it. I'm always going to support you."

 

"Thank you," Yuri whispered as quietly as he could. He didn't want anyone thinking he'd gone soft or anything. He was still the Ice Tiger of Russia. 

He was half asleep when he heard the front door opening. "Ah, you're back Victor," Yuuri's voice floated through his door. "Thanks for leaving when you did, I had a good chat with him."

"Good, Yura needed that," Victor said, a smile in his voice. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I think he will be Vitya," Yuuri's voice grew quieter and his and Victor's footsteps traveled to their room. 

Yuri smiled sleepily. The other Yuuri was right for once. He was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first work I've posted though I'm working on some others. It was originally just meant to be a stand alone but it looks like it'll turn into a story. Hope you enjoyed!


	2. Of Costume Fittings and Sappy Idiots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I was originally intending this to have just been a one shot, but it seems this is gonna be a story now.

It had been a few months since Yuri had come out to Yuuri and he found that that had been a great decision to make. Not only did the older man understand what he was going through, but he also was a plethora of tips when it came to trans related anything and generic life advice. As much as he loathed to say it, he found a source of inspiration in Yuuri. 

Victor and Yuuri were very accommodating about the whole thing. They were never outright about it, but Yuri always found menstrual supplies and a few chocolate bars set on the nightstand of the guest room—because it was not his room no matter how much they insisted upon calling it that—right around the time his period was set to start. Yuuri would even go out of his way to talk to him when he was going through a particularly dysphoric day. 

Grateful, he supposed, was the word for how he felt about the older skaters. Not that he would ever admit it, but in a way they were quickly becoming his family. 

"Victor!" He heard a shout through the walls. "Ouch, dammit," Yuuri swore, in a very uncharacteristic tone. "That hurt!"

"Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri," Victor's voice flooded with worry and a bit of guilt. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Well I'm certainly not up for practice today," Yuuri's voice was much softer than before, forgiveness evident in his tone. "I'll be walking funny for a day or two but no real damage."

"What the hell are you two up to?" Yuri shouted, having come barreling into their room, one hand draped across his eyes because goodness knows what those two could be doing. "Why are you hurting Katsudon?" He demanded. 

His hand was pulled down from his eyes and he found the two of them, thankfully, fully clothed, though Yuuri appeared to not have anything on over his boxers at the moment. Not that Yuri could see from where he was standing, or rather from where Victor was standing, right in front of him with his mouth in that stupid heart shaped grin. 

"I wasn't hurting him," Victor shook his head. "I would never do that intentionally."

Yuuri scoffed at that. "You have before Vitya, but he is correct this time," he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and walked over to them, a slight limp apparent in his gait. "He was trying to be helpful for once but there's a reason he's not in the medical field."

"But you let me Yuuri, and that nurse showed me how and cleared me to do so, just because you have more practice at it doesn't mean I can't be helpful," Victor pouted, not making too much sense to Yuri who hadn't quite picked up on what they were talking about. 

"Vitya, it's just a shot," Yuuri said with fond exasperation. "You act as if I haven't been jabbing myself in the leg for longer than you've known me."

With that statement it clicked for Yuri. He knew that Yuuri was on T but he never payed too much attention to that fact as it made him feel dysphoric about himself. Of course Victor would want to help his fiancé with that, that man was utterly smitten and would do anything for the other. "You make me sick Victor," Yuri fake gagged. "What are you gonna do for Katsudon next, carry him around so he doesn't have to walk." Victor's eyes lit up at the suggestion and he scooped Yuuri up into his arms. "I didn't mean it literally," Yuri shouted after the two them. "You're so disgustingly domestic old man."

"He is my Prince Charming, Yurio," Victor stated, ignoring his look of disgust. "Just let me love and cherish him."

"Ick," Yuri made a face at the two, though Yuuri wouldn't see because he was too busy trying to cover his blush with his hands. "Disgusting. Just get married already."

"Ah you love us," Victor pushed him playfully, having set Yuuri down. 

Yuri made an even worse face at that. He did not love them at all, he just maybe cared about them just a little bit, a teeny tiny minuscule bit. "Shut it old man," he barked. "I'm going to crush you this coming season!"

"Speaking of this coming season," Yuuri interceded, his expression telling the other two to stop bickering. "I let Yakov know that practice is a no go today with my thigh as bad as it is, and he's tasking me with dragging the two of you to costume design and fitting sessions today."

Yuri's mouth fell open at that. "There is no way I am going to a costume session with him," he practically spat, pointing accusingly at Victor. He shuddered slightly at the memory of the last time that happened. "I got drug along with him once and that is never happening again. It's all 'Yuri, look at this. Yuri isn't this perfect. Yuri why aren't you looking.'" He frowned. 

"Okay, so you're telling me that Victor here," Yuuri gestured towards his fiancé. "Acts like Victor while looking at costume stuff," he raised an eyebrow. 

Yuri stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. "No, he's so much worse, he's the worst you don't understand." Yuri glanced between the two of them and saw the soft gaze that Victor was imparting upon Yuuri while his back was turned, he hoped that meant Victor would not be a total ass during the costume session but he doubted that. 

"Well, luckily for you perhaps," Yuuri said. "Victor is going to work with the fitting person by himself. I'm going to stick with you. Unless of course you want to explain your, let's call them unique, measurements to the fitting people," he shot him a glance that he could read very easily. 'I understand,' Yuuri's eyes said. 'I've been through it. I'm here to help.' Yuri had gotten quite used to that look recently. 

"Fine," Yuri huffed. "But only if Katsudon helps me and Victor stays far, far, far away. You got it old man," he barked. 

"Come on you two," Yuuri rolled his eyes and grabbed Victor's hand. "The appointment is in less than an hour and we all know that some of you," he pointedly looked at both Yuri and Victor, "get easily distracted." 

"I do not get easily distracted," Victor defended. 

"You remember that day in Barcelona when you drug me through at least four shops before going to where we were originally going?" Yuuri asked, heading towards the door and leaving the others with no choice but to follow him. 

"Or that time when you left Russia after watching a short video clip to chase after a, in your words, 'beautiful Japanese man who seduced me,'" Yuri said in a dramatic imitation of Victor's voice. 

"You have no say in that Yuri, you came too," Yuuri's cheeks flushed at hearing that Victor referred to him in that way before they had even met. "Though I do suppose your reasons were different, I'll give you that at least. Now come on, we need to get going."

Yuri didn't pay much attention as they travelled to the place. It was, in his opinion, much too early for working on costumes, but he never really got a say in that. Costume design could be quite fun, but costume fitting was his own personal hell. Combine that with the two lovesick idiots he was with, and he was in for a long and tortuous day. 

He wasn't the one who normally picked the design for his costumes, but he usually had a say in such. He just wasn't a genius when it came to all of that, he wasn't Victor, who despite his current level of lovesickness, was still leagues beyond him. Of course he would never dare admit that out loud, but he knew it was true. Even Yuuri, with all his anxieties was a step ahead of him in some ways. He knew that, he wouldn't say it aloud, but he knew it. It pushed him to do better, to be better.

He learned from them, and he made himself better, pushed himself farther. It's part of what got him his gold medal the previous season. And as Victor always said, surprising the audience was top priority. It was that sentiment that led him to choosing his theme for the season: Humility. It was something so different from his typical brashness, so not him. If that couldn't surprise the audience this season, then nothing would. 

True to their words, upon arriving at the place, Victor went off by himself and Yuuri came up to Yuri. "Victor's gonna look at designs right now so you can get your measurements done right away, we know that's what you're dreading most about this. But I've got your back, you are gonna have to take the binder off though," he lowered his voice for the last part. 

Yuri nodded at that though his lips tugged into a frown and he sighed. "I know, I just. I don't want people to know just yet. I-I'm not ready for all of that."

"You don't have to be, not yet at least. Not ever if you don't want," the older man smiled at him. "Now all you have to do is walk into there and get measured, a simple task. I'll do all of the other talking about fit with them. Then you get to look at fabrics and designs."

Yuri nodded numbly and let his feet carry him into where he was set to be measured. He pulled off his binder without taking off his shirt, a feat made easy by how worn in the poor thing was, he really needed to get a new one soon. He was too anxious about the whole process that he didn't even snap at the lady taking his measurements, not even one nasty comment. 

He distanced himself so far from what was happening that it took a few times for him to realize someone was saying his name. "Yurio, hey Yurio," Victor snapped his fingers in front of Yuri's eyes and he jumped slightly. "You can hear back out with Yuuri again, she's gonna take mine now."

"Huh, oh," Yuri smiled slightly at realizing he was feee to go. There was only so much he could block out and the soft noise the lady had made while measuring his chest definitely went noticed by him. He took a seat next to Yuuri and grabbed a design book that he began mindlessly flipping through. 

Nothing on the pages seemed to stand out to him, and if he was being honest, his mind was definitely elsewhere. He stared at the designs without really seeing them, the noise the lady made replaying over and over again in his head. It was then he realized he hadn't even put his binder back on, a fact that he quickly rectified. Though if the slight stinging on his chest was anything to go by, he had accidentally scratched himself in the process. 

He reached for another design book mechanically and flipped through that one the same way he had flipped through the first without really seeing any of it. It was then that he felt a hand on his back, Yuuri's of course. He knew well by now the comforting touch that he often imparted upon him. "Yurio, you know that's a girls costume book," he glanced up at the sound of the nickname, something he'd grown used to Victor using but wasn't quite as common from Yuuri, especially not recently. "I'm not one to judge, but I don't really think that's what you want."

Yuri glanced back at the book at realized that indeed it was filled with rather feminine costumes. "Oh," the word fell from his mouth. "I didn't notice."

"What's the matter?" Yuuri's bros furrowed. "Was it the measurements? I can have Victor chat with her about that, I already spoke to her a bit. Nobody is going to find out."

Yuri held eye contact with him for a few seconds before his composure fell and his face crumpled in a show of emotion he would later get angry about if mentioned. "I'm never gonna be a real boy," the words came out raw, dripping with feelings he was loathe to feel. 

Instantly Yuuri's arm found its way around his shoulders and Yuri was pulled into a comforting embrace. "Yuri, you know that's not true," he said. "You are a real boy, now and for always. You're just in your initial phase," a slight smile laced those last words. 

Yuri hiccuped and sniffled, wiping at his eyes. Not that he was crying of course, he didn't cry. After a few minutes he pulled away from Yuuri and looked up at him with a half smile. "You and those ridiculous fish of yours."

"Says the self proclaimed Ice Tiger of Russia," Yuuri raised an eyebrow. "Tigers don't even live in Russia. And for the record, parrot fish are extremely interesting."

"That name doesn't even make sense," Yuri scoffed. "Parrot fish. Parrots are birds and fish are fish. There's nothing similar about the two."

"It's a type of fish, named so because its teeth resemble the beak of a parrot," Yuuri stated. "It's a fascinating family. There are 90 something species grouped under it. Female parrot fish..."

"Can turn into males," Yuri finished the sentence flatly. "I know. Somebody never shuts up about that. If I recall correctly, that somebody is wanting their free skate costume to be reminiscent of said fish."

"Fair point," Yuuri shrugged. "They're a pretty fish after all, though I'm rather fond of the terminal phase, I think it suits me. Plus what better to go along with my theme: Transition."

At first Yuri had been surprised to find out that that was the theme Yuuri had chosen for this season, but if he thought about it, it made sense in a way. The older man had been through many transitions in his life and this was encompassing of all of them. It was a bold move for him and Yuri admired that, he hoped that one day he could be open about it the way Yuuri was. 

Yuri grabbed for the design book again and thumbed through it, paying much more attention than he had before, though he still was listening to what was going on around him. 

"I was thinking something resembling a butterfly for my short program, perhaps something suggestive of both a cocoon and wings," he heard Yuuri's voice across the room. "The piece I'm skating to is called Metamorphosis. Starts very soft, gentle. It evolves into something much more present, more me I suppose," a soft laugh. Yuri didn't quite catch the next few snippets of conversation as he had just landed on a design that just maybe could be something he could work with. "Yes a parrot fish," he caught back onto what Yuuri was saying. "Here, it looks like this. I was thinking something like this costume, but instead of those colors I want it to look like this," it was apparent that Yuuri had pulled up pictures of the fish on his phone and was now showing the lady. 

Yuri turned his attention completely to the design in front of him at that point. It was simple, much simpler than anything he had worn since perhaps his early early days. But it was almost exactly what he was going for. He smiled at the images forming in his head and flipped through to find another design that he liked, since he'd be needing two of course. 

When it was his turn to speak to the designer he was rather confident. "This one here for the short program, it's simple, that's what I need," he pointed to one of the two designs he had marked. "I want the top to be white and it to get slowly darker as it goes down, like something that's there but isn't the main attraction, noticeable but calling out for attention if you understand that," the lady nodded silently. "And for my free skate, this one," he jabbed the other design. "This is exactly what want, almost to the precise details. If that piece went all way to the neck right there and there was no white coming out around the collar or neck it would look wonderful," he hesitated. "And I want something tiger patterned, not in a flashy way, just something slight, incorporated somehow. Maybe a stripe here or something, or if not, add back in the shirt bit but make it a color that matches my eyes," he nodded at that and walked over towards Yuuri, who was staring across the room, Victor the target of his gaze. 

"Oi, Katsudon," Yuri jarred him in the side with his elbow. "You're so disgustingly in love you know," he shook his head. "It's terrible."

"He's beautiful," Yuuri breathed. "Honestly. I'm lucky to have him, he's more supportive than I could've ever dreamed. He's just...Victor," his mouth curled into a smile. 

Yuri fake gagged again, something he found himself doing quite often. "Incessantly annoying if that's what that means," he stated. "I can't decide which of you two is sappier. You with all your stares when you think he's not looking, he is looking by the way, he eats that straight up. Or him with his, well everything. Seriously?! Love as a theme Victor, you've already skated that theme twice," he shouted to where Victor was sitting with the designer. 

"It's different this time Yurio," Victor flashed his that heart shaped grin once again. "That was about yearning for love, wanting somebody to hold. This is me skating my love for Yuuri."

"Eck," Yuri made a face. "He's definitely worse right now. What did I ever do to get stuck around you saps all the time."

"Shouldn't have taken that gold medal last season if you didn't want this," Yuuri teased. "Now you're stuck with us forever."

"I'll crush you and that old man," Yuri growled. There was no way he would let either of them beat him, even if it took all his energy and focus. This was going to be his season. 

"If your body is up for that," Yuuri shot him a knowing glance. "Otherwise you'll destroy yourself in the process. But anyway, it looks like Victor is almost done over there so I'm gonna go snag him before he gets distracted."

It took Yuri a second to catch the meaning behind Yuuri's words, but once he saw the slight limp in his gait he realized it. He knew the strain on his body from skating men's was probably more than it could handle unless he managed to get himself on hormones soon, but he'd give it another season. It was all he knew how to do, push himself until he should break and then keep going. He didn't dare let himself think of how much longer he could keep it up, it was something that he had to do, and he would do it. 

"Time to go baaack," a giggling Victor grabbed his and pulled him up. "Today is family movie night come on!"

"God you sound drunk," Yuri grumbled. "And you are not my family."

"Drunk on looooove," Victor singsonged. "He's just the most beautiful man I've ever seen. So graceful, so handsome," he fawned, while Yuuri made an attempt to hide himself. 

"He was talking about me while working with the designer," Yuuri's face was flushed. "And now he's like this."

"Wait!" Victor barked, turning his gaze to Yuri. "You said we weren't family. How dare you? Come along now, we're getting ice cream and watching a movie and you, young man, are going to enjoy it."

Yuri groaned and shook his head, he knew there was no way out of it now. His fate was sealed for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters from now on should connect better than the first two did, at least I hope so. Thanks for reading!


	3. Of Nail Painting and Baking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bit of trouble writing beyond the first few paragraphs but once I got past that it just kept going. This is the longest chapter yet, dont hate me too much.

Falling into a routine was much easier than Yuri had ever imagined it would be; something about the repetitiveness and familiarity of living with Victor and Yuuri was oddly comforting to him.

Yuri yawned and stretched as he padded out of the guest room and made his way into the kitchen. It was a rare few days off of practice and he was going to cherish them. He found Yuuri sitting at the counter with one leg folded up on the chair and underneath the other. The older man was happily humming away and was... "Is that nail polish?" Yuri asked in confusion. "You're painting your nails?!"

"Oh, good morning Yuri," Yuuri smiled, looking up from his nails which were definitely being coated in a sparkly dark purple. "You wanna join in, there's plenty of colors. I could do a tiger pattern for you."

"B-but that's so," he spluttered in indignation.

"Feminine?" Yuuri suggested with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," Yuri nodded, looking down at his feet. "I haven't had my nails painted since I was a little gir—in a long time."

"Well that's no fun," Yuuri grinned playfully. "Even Victor paints his nails. There's nothing girly about it. Come on, it'll be a bonding moment," he teased. "I bet you Victor will even be teary eyed about it when he gets back from walking Makkachin."

Yuri hesitantly sat down and looked through the myriad of colors set on the countertop. "I'm not so sure about this," he admitted. "I think I'll just watch you do yours."

"Alright," Yuuri went back to humming, a content smile gracing his face.

"How are you so comfortable with this?" Yuri asked after a few minutes of silence. "I don't get it. How is something so feminine possibly of any enjoyment. Doesn't it just make you feel like a girl?"

Yuuri glanced up at him with a look he couldn't quite read in his eyes. "Just because something is considered feminine doesn't mean a man can't enjoy it too. There's no wrong way to be a boy Yuri, and for me, being a man doesn't mean confining myself to a box marked 'Manliness,'" he made his voice extra deep for that. "I paint my nails, sometimes I wear skirts, I cry at sappy movies. None of that makes me a girl though. It just makes me me. And I say I'm a man, so that's what matters."

"Maybe you can do that and still be a man, but I can't," Yuri frowned. "Can't wear dresses, can't wear nail polish, can't like boys, can't be cute. Any of those would make me a girl. And I'm not a girl."

"Oh Yuri," Yuuri once again had that unidentifiable expression. "That's not true. Only you can decide what defines you. If you want to wear a dress, then wear one. If you want to paint your nails, then paint them. No matter what you do, you're still an amazing boy and the people who love you won't care."

"You and Victor always spout the most ridiculous sappy crap," Yuri rolled his eyes. It's not like he was grateful for the unending torrent of support he got from the two. He totally was.

Yuri yawned again and pulled up instagram on his phone, lazily scrolling through his feed and liking every cat picture he came across, there were quite a few of those. He hadn't had a lazy morning like this in a while, he had almost forgotten how nice it could be. Something about the faint sunlight trickling in through the windows and casting onto the floor was relaxing in a way he wasn't used to.

He and Yuuri sat in comfortable silence for a while before the older man was the one to break it. "You do know it's okay to feminine, right Yuri?"

Yuri cast his eyes towards the windows and frowned. It was such a deep topic for a morning like this one, but it was something he could discuss nonetheless. "Yeah, I do," he nodded mechanically. "But not for me. You can get away with it, I can't."

"If you had asked me the same question just a year or two ago, I would've answered exactly how you just did," Yuuri admitted. "I was terrified of letting myself do anything even remotely feminine. I avoided it at all costs, but by doing so I ignored a part of who I am," he sighed softly. "Skating Eros last season was something that helped me better connect to that part of me. And once I accepted that there were parts of me that were feminine, I became much more confident. I'm a better skater because of it."

"I don't understand," Yuri scrunched his nose in confusion.

"Let me think of a way to word this," Yuuri paused for a second. "You are who you are, and ignoring a part of yourself doesn't allow you to truly be you. Of course you're still yourself if you do ignore bits and pieces, but you're not as complete. You don't get the full picture, sure you can tell what it is but once all the pieces are there and it's put together, that's a whole other sight to see."

Yuri found himself nodding even though the words weren't the most sensical explanation possible. It helped him wrap his head around it a bit at least.

"I want to see you be more confident in who you are Yuri," the smile in Yuuri's eyes couldn't have been more sincere. "I want to see the real Yuri Plisetsky out there on the ice this season."

At that Yuri placed his hands on the countertop in front of Yuuri. "Okay," he said more to himself than anything. "You said you could do tiger patterned, I want that."

Yuuri had just finished Yuri's left hand when Victor came in with Makkachin, his cheeks flushed from the running they must have done. "You look lovely today Yuuri," he gazed at his fiancé lovingly, causing him to blush and Yuri to make a disgusted face. "Oh and Yurio's up too," he then noticed what they were doing and his face lit up. "My boys! I love this but I can't believe you're doing it without me," he pouted slightly before whipping out his phone and taking several pictures of the two. "I'm posting these everywhere.

Yuri glared daggers at Victor's back but there wasn't much he could do about it. "Old man!" He barked. "Since you seem to love this so much how about you make use of yourself and make breakfast."

"A whole family affair," Victor's face lit up even more than it already was, Yuri hadn't thought that possible but apparently it was. "I can make some eggs and a protein shake."

"That's not what he wants, dear," Yuuri said without looking up from Yuri's nails. "We've all been working hard and we have a break. No worrying about diets today. You're no model coach nor are you a model student."

"Katsudon is right old man," Yuri nodded. "Let us enjoy our break."

"I forgot we didn't have practice today," Victor laughed. "Both of you are right, we should be enjoying ourselves."

"Go ahead and make those eggs for breakfast Vitya," Yuuri looked at him for half a second. "We're going to do some baking today. I'll teach you two how to make cinnamon rolls, they were a favorite treat of mine back in Detroit."

"I'm gonna go get dressed," Yuri tried to sneak away now that his nails were done, he was hoping the two would forget about him and he'd get out of the disaster that was sure to come. He had no such luck.

"Nope," Yuuri said, popping the p sound. "Today is a lazy day, pajamas all the way. And don't even think of putting your binder on young man, your lungs will appreciate the break."

"Listen to your father, young one," Victor said while attempting to crack two eggs at once and failing miserably.

"You're not my parents!" Yuri shouted, glowering at both of them.

"My son, so sweet," Victor put his egg covered hand over his heart. "We're so lucky to have him as a child."

Yuuri laughed, a genuine sound reserved only for those he truly cared about. "So precious."

"Tch," Yuri scoffed. "You two disgust me. Nasty domestic old men, it's awful. I can't believe I stay here."

"We know you appreciate it," Victor's voice sounded from across the kitchen where he was very much struggling with the eggs. Some people just can't cook eggs.

"And you're definitely not getting out of family cooking time," Yuuri's tone suspiciously matched Victor's almost exactly.

And that's how Yuri came to be absolutely coated in flour from head to toe three hours later. "Victor you moron," he screamed after the older man had accidentally dropped the bag of flour he was carrying across the room.

Yuuri was scrambling to fix everything and Victor was looking uncannily like Makkachin after the dog did something wrong. "Just stay where you are for a second, both of you," Yuuri tried not to laugh while snapping a photo of the two. "I got this."

Yuri brushed flour off of the kitten print apron that was oh so conveniently folded in one of the kitchen drawers. He suspected Victor bought it for this exact purpose but the older man claimed it had always been there. "These better be worth this hassle," he growled.

"They will be, we just need to add some more flour," Yuuri laughed as he took in the appearance of the other two again. Victor still looked shocked and the explosion of flour covering him and Yuri was laughable in and of itself. Luckily enough there was another bag of flour to be found and Yuuri took care to transport that one himself. "You two can move now, we'll clean this up later."

"What am I supposed to do now?" Yuri asked, prodding at the ball of dough that Yuuri had plopped on the counter in front of him.

"You knead it," Yuuri demonstrated the technique and then placed the heel of Yuri's palms against the dough. "Do that for about five minutes while Victor helps me prepare the topping."

Though Yuri had watched his grandfather cook many times, he had never taken a big role in helping with it. He had distanced himself from it after hearing several nasty comments about how cooking was for women. Because of that he had extremely limited cooking skills that basically consisted of cooking noodles and making toast. He was surprised to find how much fun the process was.

Kneading, he decided, was actually quite enjoyable. Punching the dough down over and over again was a good way to get out the anger that had built from having flour dumped all over him. He even began to smile as he worked on it, unconsciously humming to some tune he barely recognized.

After some time he realized that the room was much too quiet and he snapped his head around around to find Victor and Yuuri leaning against each other and smiling at him. "What are you two saps staring at?" He demanded.

"You just look so happy," Victor told him. "We're glad you're enjoying yourself."

"Baking can be quite nice," Yuuri nodded. "I'm happy you seem to agree with that sentiment. Now I think that dough has been kneaded enough. Now it's time to roll it out and put the topping on."

Yuri stepped back and let Yuuri do the remainder of the task, Victor seemed to think this was the best idea as well and the two of them stood off to the side while Yuuri worked.

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuri noticed Victor pulling out his phone and presumably taking photos of Yuuri without him knowing. He pulled his own phone out and realized he had quite a few notifications, more so than he was expecting.

Upon finding the source of the notifications he sent a sidelong glare at Victor who had posted the photo of Yuuri painting his nails. He frowned at that and read the caption below the photo:

**v-nikiforov** : bonding time! these two are the best 

"Why would you post this?!" He demanded, shoving his phone screen at Victor. "People are gonna think I'm friends with him. He's my rival," he glared over at Yuuri.

"Oh please," Victor rolled his eyes at his antics. "Everybody knows you two get along quite well. Plus, the fans love that kind of stuff."

"Ugh fine," Yuri huffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "Oi, Katsudon, you almost done yet?"

"Yes, I'm just about to put these in the oven," Yuuri told both of them. "How about the two of you go clean up, I'll take care of the floor."

Yuri didn't even bother responding as he turned on his heal and made a beeline to the shower in the guest room. He tossed his phone onto the bed and dumped his clothes into his laundry basket before turning the shower up to its hottest setting.

While the water heated up he attempted to brush as much flour as he could out of his hair without looking at his body in the mirror. Showering was simultaneously very nice and a personal hell for him. The incessant pounding of water helped to soothe him but it also reminded him of how his body was. Some days were worse than others though.

Yuri was thankful that today wasn't a bad dysphoria day as he hopped into the shower and scrubbed off the remaining flour from his hair and skin. He winced at the texture of it as it got wet but it didn't take long for it all to be gone. Once he was done washing his hair he stood under the spray and let his mind wander. He was jolted from his thoughts when he heard a banging on his door. "Yurio," Victor called out. "The cinnamon rolls are almost done, you've been in there quite a while."

Yuri shouted back to let Victor know he heard him but he stayed under the water for a couple more minutes before stepping out of the shower. Thankfully, the mirror had fogged over from steam so he dried off and got dressed without catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He opted to let his hair dry naturally before heading out into the kitchen.

"Ooh, this smells great," he smiled. "When can I have one?"

"Give it a minute to cool a bit," Yuuri told him. "You'll burn your tongue if you don't. I made icing for them as well."

Yuri noticed that there was indeed a bowl of icing sitting next to the cooling tray of cinnamon rolls. He wasn't sure how Yuuri possibly had the time to clean the floor and make the icing, but the floor was positively shining. "I want one now though," he whined. "They look so good."

"Well then get one for each of us and bring them out here," Victor told him from his seat on couch. He was sprawled out and Yuuri was leaning against his chest.

"Fine," Yuri huffed. He supposed he could be bothered to carry them out to the other two if it meant he didn't have to wait any longer to eat his. He grabbed two plates and shoved two rolls onto one of them after choosing what appeared to be the largest one for himself. He sloppily iced Victor's and Yuuri's and did a much better job on his. "Here you two go," he shoved their plate at them. "I figured you only needed one plate."

He plopped down in the empty chair and but into his cinnamon roll, his eyes lighting up as he did so. "This is delicious, Katsudon," he mumbled around a mouthful so it came out sounding more like 'thish ish alishish sudon.'

"I knew you'd like it," Yuuri smiled. "What do you think Victor?"

Victor had yet to take a bite of his. "It looks good," he said but still didn't pick it up.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow and picked up a roll. "Looks good huh," he took a small bite out of it. "Tastes good too, you try," he practically shoved the treat into Victor's mouth.

Yuri crumpled his face in disgust yet again but took a picture of the two, he had to post something as revenge for Victor posting that picture earlier. He glanced over at Yuuri and Victor and found that they had switched to kissing each other in lieu of finishing their rolls. Yuri quickly looked away and placed his focus on his phone.

His notifications were up again and he groaned. The source this time was a picture Yuuri had posted of him and Victor covered in flour. He laughed a bit at Victor's guilty expression in the photo and read what Yuuri had captioned it as:

**katsukiyuuri** : these two are going to be the death of me

If he had any qualms at all in regards to posting a photo of the other two they disappeared at that. He opened up a new post and selected the picture he had just taken. Yuuri's face was scrunched up in laughter and Victor had icing on his nose and an expression of shock at the food being shoved into his mouth. He typed up a caption and hit post:

**yuri-plisetsky** : ew. they give me cavities

Yuri was halfway through his second cinnamon roll when Yuuri and Victor parted and noticed his post. "Yurio, this is a good picture," Victor gushed. "He's so beautiful in it."

"You're being sappy again," Yuri curled his lip. "Disgusting. I can't believe I put up with you. I should be paid for this."

"He's so mean to us darling," Victor buried his face in Yuuri's shirt. "I'm crying."

"Okay, I'm done here," Yuri stood up abruptly and starting walking towards the guest room. "I'll be here until dinner, you two had better be lass sappy by then."

He pulled the door shut behind him with a resounding click and flopped  down onto the bed. He had intended to scroll through social media for a while and maybe text some friends but with his body still warm from his shower and the weight of the cinnamon rolls in his stomach, he quickly dropped off into a light slumber.

When he woke up it was dark in his room and he was momentarily disoriented before realizing he had taken a nap unintentionally. His stomach rumbled to alert him it was dinner time so he went to find Victor and Yuuri.

"Hey, I'm starving," he shouted, barreling out into the living room where he found Victor and Yuuri still on the same couch, leaning against each other and reading.

"Oh, I suppose it's about time to eat," Yuuri glanced at the time, nudging Victor with his elbow.

"Yes, lets go out tonight," Victor said. "Your choice Yurio."

Yuri thought for a minute before deciding. "Let's go to that one Chinese place, that sounds good right now."

The other two nodded in agreement and they made their way towards the front door. "It's quite pleasant out tonight so maybe a walk afterwards would be nice," Victor suggested and Yuuri nodded his agreement.

"Eh whatever," Yuri didn't care right now. All he cared about was getting food in his stomach as soon as humanly possible, sooner would be better.

He didn't talk at all on the way there and he talked even less as they ate, he wasn't going to let socializing get between him and his dinner.

"You're unusually quiet," Yuuri noted towards the end of the meal, his gaze on Yuri.

"I was hungry," Yuri said, gesturing towards his now very empty bowl. "Nothing gets between a man and his food."

"Well I suppose you're right about that," Yuuri nodded in agreement, probably thinking about katsudon.

Victor paid for the meal and the three of them left the restaurant with content smiles on their faces. As per Victor's earlier suggestion, they took a short stroll through the park that was near the restaurant. At one point they ran into some reporters who were out for an unknown reason and Victor fended them off with a few statements. After that encounter they headed back.

Yuri yawned as he took off his shoes, even though he hadn't done much that day and had taken a nap he was quite tired. "I think I'm just gonna go to bed," he told the other two.

"Goodnight Yuri," Yuuri told him. "Sleep in tomorrow, the rest is good for you."

Yuri sleepily mumbled a goodnight and stumbled into the guest room. He decided it would be too much effort to change into pajamas so he opted to just sleep in boxers that night. It didn't take long for him to pull off his shirt and pants and collapse onto the bed. Had he been more awake perhaps he would've realized that he had gone out in public without wearing his binder, but he was much too exhausted to notice that. He fumbled for his phone and scrolled through his feed, barely reading anything. He mostly just saw the pictures from earlier and comments on them that skimmed:

**yuri-yuri-angel** : wow he's so handsome with his nails done  
 **icesk8love** : they must have so much fun  
 **kittycat-skater** : yurachtka is such a pretty boy, you'd almost think he's a girl  
 **therealgiraffe** : um, why does it look like he has tits  
 **luv-yplisetsky** : yuris prettier than me somehow, he's so feminine looking

Yuri's eyes crossed with the effort of keeping them open and his phone slipped from his hand. He was so tired he hadn't even read the comments. It took mere seconds for him to fall asleep.

As much as he would've loved to sleep some more, Yuri awoke at sunrise out of habit more than anything. He groaned at how early it was and rolled over in an attempt to block out the light slowly streaming into his room. He could hear a low mummer and it took him a second to realize that there was a voice—no, two voices—talking outside his room. Of course Victor and Yuuri were up at this ungodly hour on a day he could sleep in, he had half a mind to get up and yell at them but then he caught onto to what they were saying.

"What do we do?" Victor asked, sounding stressed about something. "Should we try and keep him from noticing?"

"Vitya," Yuuri sighed. "It already happened, we can't keep it from him. He's either going to hear from us or find out himself. Which do you think is better?"

They had to be talking about him, Yuri decided. There wasn't anybody else he could think of at the moment.

"Yuuri, this is my fault, I was careless," Victor was almost choked up at that statement. "I don't know how to tell him."

"It's not your fault Victor, even if it was it'd be as much mine as yours," Yuuri sounded stressed too. "We need to let him know before he sees for himself. He's probably still sleeping so we should wake him up and tell him now."

Yuri untangled himself from his blankets a bit and fumbled around for his phone, finding it hanging off the bed from the cord. He figured the best way to know what they were talking about was to check it.

He unlocked his phone and was startled to see how many missed calls and texts he had received, he must have slept very soundly to miss all that noise. He randomly opened up a message someone had sent, he didn't even notice who sent it. It contained a link to an article and a single question mark.

Yuri clicked on the link and immediately his heart felt heavy and eyes filled with tears. He didn't even notice his phone falling to the floor screen face up. He let out a shout and buries his face in a pillow.

The article on his phone remained open, all he had seen was a few words, the title:

_Is Yuri Plisetsky a Girl_?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry bout that cliff hanger (not really). It was originally not supposed to happen for a couple chapters but it fits my timeline better here. Which by the way it's late August 2016. For my convenience the canon events were the 15-16 skating season and the 16-17 season is about to start. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! I'd really love some feedback on what you thought.


	4. Of Breakdowns and Fluffy Blankets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The anxiety is pretty strong in this chapter, just saying. This was actually the easiest chapter for me to write somehow. Poor poor Yuri, my smol trans son.

Yuri didn't know just how many tears he could shed but it seemed to be a lot. His chest heaved and he took loud gasping breaths through his mouth. Nothing could comfort him.

As soon as his first shout had sounded, Yuuri and Victor had come into his room and wrapped him in a comforting embrace. They sat with him as he screamed and cussed, not once telling him to calm or telling him he was making a big deal out of nothing. It was what he needed at the moment, someone to let him know that this was really happening and to just let it happen. And he had not one, but two people doing just that for him.

By the time he finally calmed down and collapsed against Yuuri's chest, knocking all three of them into a reclined position, the sun had been up for a few hours.

Victor brushed his hair out of his eyes and started to rub his back as he hiccuped and sniffled.

"Shh, shh," Yuuri hushed. "You're safe, you're safe. We've got you."

Yuri just buried himself further into his blankets, making an attempt to not cry on Victor or Yuuri again, at this point both of their shirts were essentially drenched in tears. His breathing came erratically now and every once in a while a sob would slip out again.

It was the end of the world. Everybody knew now, everybody. He couldn't bear the thought of it, everybody knew and it was over. This was the end.

"Yuri, Yuri, can you say something?" Yuuri's voice urged.

He felt himself lifted into a sitting position and leaned against a stack of pillows. He wiped his eyes with a very shaky hand and he opened his mouth to speak only to be hit with another fit of crying.

"You're just gonna make yourself sick like this," Yuuri's voice was soothing. "Can you take a deep breath for me. Breathe with me, okay," it was a command. His hand was then placed against something solid and warm, Yuuri's chest he assumed. "Try and sync your breathing to mine."

Yuri gave a pitiful nod to show he understood and did his best to breathe. The rise and fall of another's chest under his hand was a helpful tool to remember how to make his lungs work.

"Good job Yuri, you're doing great," Yuuri encouraged him. "Can you say something? Whenever you're ready okay."

Yuri squeezed his eyes shut and a few stray tears trickled down his face. It took him a few minutes to collect himself enough to respond but he finally opened his eyes again and saw two very concerned faces hovering over his. "I..." his voice cracked. "I...m h-he..re," his speech came out jilted and warbled but he managed it. "I....sor-ry."

"You did nothing wrong," Yuuri assured. "That was a perfectly valid reaction. We're glad you calmed down a bit. Do you want us to stay with you? Would you like to be alone?"

"Ssss-st-stay," he stuttered out. "For now. Pl-please."

Victor and Yuuri shared a look and Victor wordlessly stood up and left the room. "I'm not going anywhere, don't worry. You're safe," Yuuri's hand brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"Th..anks," he croaked. "Good. Where V-Vict....Victor go?" He hated how he couldn't control his voice and how the words weren't working. It made everything so much worse.

"Yuri, you're starting to panic again," Yuuri's voice cut through the swirling mess of thoughts that were encompassing him.

Yuri blinked a few times and took some deep breaths. "No panic," he shook his head.

"Good good," Yuuri smiled. "You're doing great. Victor went to get you something to drink. He's making some tea, something warm might help you feel better."

"Yesss, war...rm," he nodded. That sounded good.

"You don't have to keep talking if you don't want," Yuuri let him know. "I understand that words are hard for you right know, it's okay."

Yuri attempted to smile at him as a means of expressing his gratitude but it looked more like his mouth twitched suddenly. He let his head fall forward so that his chin rested against his chest. He wanted the day to be over. He wanted to go back to sleep and only wake up once the story had died down and everything was normal again. But what he wanted most was for this to be fake, for him to wake up and it not be real. Because this couldn't be real, he didn't want it this way.

"Here, it should be cooled off enough now for him to drink," he heard Victor say, his voice much quieter than usual.

He felt a warm mug pressed into his hands and he looked up to acknowledge that he was thankful. Victor and Yuuri seemed to be having a wordless conversation in front of him, he knew it was about him but not exactly what they were communicating. He took a sip from the mug and nodded slightly, it was just the way he liked it, Victor must have noticed how he made it in the past.

"Is good," he said just loud enough for Victor to hear him before turning his attention towards the mug in his hands.

By the time the mug was empty, his head had cleared considerably and he felt a bit lighter than he had before. "Thank you, both of you," he said, grateful that he could speak more normally now. "For helping me. That was very nice."

"Yuri, I've said this many times before. Victor and I are always going to be here for you," Yuuri told him. "You're not alone in any of this."

Yuri merely nodded at that. Crying was apparently an activity that took all his energy away. His eyes stung a bit and everything else was sore from how much he had been shaking earlier.

"You probably don't feel super up to it, but a nice bath will do you wonders right now," Yuuri told him. "Then change into the most comfortable thing you own and wrap yourself up in the heaviest blanket you can find. It'll feel nice."

Yuri found himself nodding at the suggestion, it really did sound nice at the moment. "I think I will," he said.

"We'll be out in the living room once you're done," Yuuri said. "Feel free to join us if you would like."

He nodded at their backs as they walked out of the room hand in hand. It took him a few minutes before he was able to drag his heavy body out of bed and into the bathroom. His head felt as if it weighed several tons and he doubted there was much he could do about that. Even the sinking down in the warm water didn't completely help.

It was a nice feeling though, lying down with the water over his ears and his eyes closed tight. He could pretend that nothing had happened for a while. That he would go back to training and compete in the season without any unwanted stares or questions.

He stayed in the tub until the water had grown cold and then he slowly went about drying himself off. Upon stepping out of the bathroom and back into the guest room, he found his favorite pair of sweatpants and a soft shirt folded on top of a nice fluffy blanket. When he went to put them on they were nice and warm as if they had just been taken out of the dryer.

Yuri picked his phone up from the nightstand—Victor and Yuuri must have set it there for him—and pocketed it. With the fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders he headed out into the living room to join the other two. He felt much lighter than he had earlier.

"Thank you," his voice came out flat and devoid of emotion. "It was very kind of you and warming up the blanket was a good touch," he nodded slightly instead of attempting a smile and sat himself down on the couch that they had left open for him.

"The blanket was Victor's idea actually," Yuuri smiled at said man. "He's quite thoughtful even though he's not the best at dealing with those situations."

"A warm blanket is always a nice comfort," Victor shrugged. "Of course he would like it."

Yuri nodded his thanks once again and pulled up his phone. It was the most notifications he had ever seen on it before. He glanced through his missed calls to see who all had tried contacting him. Otabek, Mila, Georgi, his grandfather, Yakov, Lilia, a few people he hadn't spoken to in forever, the list went on.

His text messages were even more a mess somehow. It seemed that suddenly he was the person to contact. He had received some sort of message from practically every person he had every competed against and then some. And then there were the articles.

Link upon link upon link to articles, none of which could be good. But he was curious about them nonetheless.

"I usually turn my phone off when this sort of thing happens," Yuuri told him. "Looking through all of that will probably just make you feel worse, but not knowing is bad too. If it gets too much for you, turn off your phone and we can watch a movie or something."

Yuri clicked on an article at that, almost as if he had been waiting for permission to do so. He waited for it to load and then read one:

_Is Yuri Plisetsky a Girl?_

_Yuri Plisetsky, Grand Prix gold medalist, star male figure skater. Or so we thought. Photos taken from inside his residence with star skaters Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki show Plisetsky appearing very feminine. The photos show him painting his nails and baking and Plisetsky appears to have breasts in these photographs. Is Yuri Plisetsky actually a girl?_

And another:

_Russian Fairy a female? Reason for poor performance at Worlds?_

_After his stunning win at the GPF, Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian Fairy was a sure candidate for winning the World Championship later that season. However, Plisetsky didn't even land on the podium. His poor performance left everyone wondering what had happened as he had no sign of injury or other reason to have done as badly as he did. Photographic evidence as to why he may have done poorly has now surfaced. Images of him with his surrogate family Nikiforov and Katsuki, also skaters, show Plisetsky appearing very feminine. With his painted nails and long hair, at a glance one would label him a girl. A closer look at these photos would show that the young skater appears to be developing breasts. Another set of photos taken by interviewers who ran across the three skaters in a park show the same thing. Is Plisetsky transitioning to become a girl? And if so, what can be expected this upcoming season?_

And another:

_Skating around gender. Does Yuri Plisetsky take after Yuuri Katsuki?_

_While it is well known that ice skater Yuri Plisetsky lives with Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki, it is less well known that Katsuki is a transgender male. Plisetsky had grown much closer to Katsuki after the end of last season, is this perhaps because he seeks advice from the Japanese star and recent Worlds gold medalist. Recent photos of the two have shown them getting along rather well, even them painting their nails together. Is Katsuki rubbing off on Plisetsky and leading the Russian star to believe he is actually female. Or is it the opposite and Plisetsky is transitioning to become a man?_

And another:

_Is Yuri Plisetsky really ballet prodigy Yeva Plisetskaya?_

_Yeva Plisetskaya was a young child the last time she was seen. She was discovered at the age of three and well beloved by the ballet community. The darling prodigy seemingly disappeared around the age of six and was never heard of again. Now ten years later it seems that she did not disappear, but rather changed her name and began presenting as male. Yuri Plisetsky, a champion figure skater who dances ballet bears a striking resemblance to the disappeared prodigy. The eye and hair match exactly and young Plisetskaya's features could easily have matured into Plisetsky's. Not to mention the two bearing the same last name just feminine and masculine versions. Recent evidence shows that Plisetsky appears to have developed a very female body which suggests the he is in fact the lost prodigy Yeva Plisetskaya_.

Yuri stared at his screen in horror. That was a name he hadn't heard in years. But there is was, glaring up at him. The article contained a picture of him from when he was probably five years old, all dressed up in a leotard and tutu and holding a pose for the camera. There was no mistaking it for anyone else, not with those eyes and that stern expression he wore even then.

"No," he shouted, the force hurting his throat. "How the hell did they find this?! Where did they get this information?"

Victor and Yuuri were behind him within seconds. He merely held the screen up and let them skim through the article.

"Oh dear," Yuuri mumbled before slipping into Japanese and saying something Yuri was certain was a curse.

"Yeva Plisetskaya?" Victor said aloud, the words sounded odd coming from his mouth. "Yeva-"

"That's not my name," Yuri screamed. "Don't ever call me that or say that again. This is going to ruin everything. The other articles are a load of shit. They can't even decide if I'm a girl or a boy. But this one," he angrily clicked the screen. "This one will ruin me. This one got it right."

"Yuri," Victor softened his voice. "I wasn't calling you that," he looked at the screen quizzically. "It seems I've lost my ability to read, what is that name there?" He hummed in confusion pointing at Yuri's birth name. "The letters. They make no sense."

"I know you all saw it," Yuri's voice was small. "The whole world saw it. There's no way I'll get to compete now. This is terrible. This is terrible, this is terrible," his voice rose in volume with each repetition.

"Vitya, darling," he heard Yuuri say. "How about you go to the store and get some groceries. We're a bit low on lots of stuff, I have a list on the fridge. Get some ice cream too. I'll take care of this."

Victor placed a kiss to Yuuri's forehead and left without saying anything. "Yuri," Yuuri turned to face him. "You're upset, you're angry. Of course you are, and you can't let it build up on you."

Yuri grit his teeth and flared his nostrils. "This isn't okay," he hissed. "That's my life, my private personal only pertains to me, life."

"I know," Yuuri nodded.

"And now everybody knows, everybody. I spent so long making sure that nobody would find out, that I would never be looked down upon because of this. I fought tooth and nail to be where I am. I pushed myself past my breaking point, well beyond what this ridiculous body should be able to do.

"And it worked, for the longest time it worked. I fought hard for this, I earned this. And these slimy bastards of reporters just took it all away. Every achievement, everything. Now I'm just this kid who succeeded despite the odds. Some happy fell good story.

"They'll think I'm a monster now. I am a monster. Of course this happened. I couldn't just be some happy girl who everyone dotes on. I had to go and become this. This thing that nobody will ever want or love. I'm just a story now.

"I can't even be a boy the right away," his head fell forward as he finished shouting, his voice breaking on that last line. His body began to shake again with even more sobs because apparently he still had it in him to cry.

"Yuri that's not true," Yuuri comforted him. "You know it's not true."

"Yes it is," he whimpered, curling in on himself. He was pathetic.

"This doesn't define you," Yuuri said. "You are so much more than this. They can't tear you down over something like this. They don't even have proof, it was all just speculation."

"They're gonna attack you too now," more tears ran down his face. "They'll blame you for this. You're so private about it and now they'll make it open."

"That doesn't matter to me Yuri," Yuuri shook his head. "Don't blame yourself for this. I've never been very open about it but I tell people when they ask. If I didn't want people to know it wouldn't be my theme this season."

"O-okay," Yuri nodded slightly, that made him feel a bit better. "At least it won't hurt you then."

"This isn't the end of you Yuri Plisetsky," Yuuri stated. "What's their proof: a photo of you with your shoulders hunched forward? A picture with you wearing an apron? A somewhat blurry photo of you at night? A picture of a little kid who could be anyone?" Yuuri listed. "None of those are definitive proof either way. Sure it may look like it but they still can't prove anything."

"I guess you're right," Yuri nodded, he supposed that maybe those few pictures weren't exactly solid proof.

"Now no more articles okay," Yuuri told him. "But you should look through your messages. Victor and I have been getting bombarded all day asking if you're alright. The people who care about you want to know how you're doing."

Yuri nodded numbly and navigated to his messages. He figured it would be easier to call his grandfather than anything so he did that first. He picked up after the second ring.

"Are you okay Yurachka?" His grandfather asked him.

"I will be, dedushka," he answered.

"That's my boy," he could hear pride in his voice. "You take care of yourself now."

"I will," Yuri agreed.

"I love you," his grandfather said.

"You too," Yuri hung up at that.

Normally he would've spoken to him longer but he didn't really have the energy to at the moment. Opting to just text instead of call, he pulled open his messages and opened them at random. He figured he would feel better once he replied to the ones that needed it so he set about doing that:

**Yakov** : Your grandfather told me when I became your coach. I've always known. I saw potential in you then and I still see it now, I trained you to reach that potential. This changes nothing.

Yuri almost smiled at that, he was pretty sure Yakov had known but this just confirmed it. He opened up Lilia's next:

**Lilia** : Boy or girl you've always been the most beautiful thing on the ice. Don't let this get in the way.

He was surprised to see that both his coaches took it in stride, but then again he didn't think they would be angry at their star student. Neither of their messages required a response which he was grateful for. He then scrolled down towards the messages he was more worried about.

Both Mila and Georgi had said the same thing. Something about how he was a good rink mate and skater and they didn't really care either way. He was honestly surprised to see that so far everyone had supported him or at least didn't hate him.

He decided to ignore the texts from the people he hadn't spoken to in a long time and found that there were only a few messages left for him to look at after he deleted all of those ones. The only remaining texts were from Otabek, Chris, and JJ. He opened Chris's first:

**Chris** : cool, cool man.

That was all he gotten, he assumed the Swiss man had mostly likely asked Victor about what was going on and decided to leave it alone. It was the other two messages that scared him. He wasn't sure what to say to his friend or his rival. He closed his eyes and clicked at random not wanting to choose which to answer first. Otabek's:

**Otabek** : Yuri?  
**Otabek** : Is it true? I don't care either way, you're my friend.  
**Yuri** : I should have told you myself Beka, yes it is. I'm a boy though.

Yuri typed his response and sent it. Now it only left JJ. He wasn't sure why JJ had even sent him a message, probably just to laugh at him. He opened it anyway:

**JJ** : Wow, princess, you outskated the king. Good job.  
**JJ** : Wait, that sounded insensitive man. Uh, good job.  
**JJ** : I'm not good at this am I?  
**JJ** : You're a good skater man, a great opponent. I don't care about it. Um, my brother is trans so you just became his favorite, right up there with Katsuki.  
**Yuri** : You're an ass JJ, but thanks. Tell your bro I say hi, he seems chill at least

Yuri found it odd that JJ of all people was the one to send him the most texts. He supposed it was the Canadian's odd way of trying to apologize for the comments he always made about his appearance. He was definitely gonna beat JJ again this season, no doubts about it.

He figured it would be best to stay off social media for a while so he set his phone aside after replying to everybody.

"You seem a bit more relaxed now," Yuuri noted. "Most people taking it well then?"

"Yeah," Yuri nodded. "I'm surprised, I was expecting worse. Most people said they don't care either way. Otabek says that he's my friend and it doesn't change that. Even JJ sent something almost nice for him."

"People who care about you, don't care about this. It doesn't change their opinion of you in the slightest and if it does, then it should be a positive change. You've worked hard, you deserve the respect," Yuuri told him. "Though I'm not actually surprised about JJ, his family reached out to me at one a few years ago. His brother came out as trans and they've been trying to get him into men's skating. This year is his first year skating in the men's division for the JGPF."

"That's nice for him," Yuri said. "Still weird that JJ was nice to me. I'm gonna crush him this year."

"If you say so," Yuuri laughed. "Now come eat. Victor got back while you were still replying to people and we've got some food ready."

Yuri nodded eagerly, noticing that his stomach was growling a bit at that point. Despite that he only managed to eat a little bit before his appetite faded again. He sighed loudly at this and wrapped his arms around himself. "I know that you guys are okay with this, but what if my fans aren't?" His voice fell.

"You can't control that Yuri," Victor told him. "The audience is something that's out of your control, out of everybody's control. You'll just have to see. This is still something you can deny to the press if you don't want the attention."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Can we just watch that movie now?" He asked.

"Sounds like a great idea," Yuuri smiled at him. "Anything in particular you want or should just find something random."

"Something random," Yuri yawned, having crawled back into his blanket cocoon on the couch.

The movie they settled on ending up being some black and white sci-fi show with terrible graphics. Yuri fell asleep halfway through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of how Yuri reacted at the beginning of this was a bit of a combination of how I reacted when my parents found out and how a friend of mine reacted, plus a bit of Yuri to make it more him. 
> 
> I really really would love feedback on this, please tell me what you think. I really hope you enjoyed!


	5. Of Practicing and Awful Sandwiches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to my dearly beloved plant whose untimely demise is a tragedy (he will be missed). There's a bit of dissociation in this chapter.

Going back to practice was...hard to say the least. Everybody was far too polite, an artificial niceness that dug its way under Yuri's skin and stayed there. His rinkmates smiled much wider than they usually did and tried to foster an air of happiness for him. None of it worked. 

The only good part was the ice. The familiarity of lacing up his skates and stepping out onto to the rink was the only thing keeping him grounded those first few practices after everything happened. He put his skates on, he practiced. When lunch came around he ate quickly. When practice was over he stayed longer. He only spoke when absolutely necessary. 

If his rinkmates noticed anything off about his behavior they didn't comment on it. It was widely known to them that he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to think about it. And if they acknowledged that he was acting strangely, well that would just make the whole ordeal worse. So everyone kept quiet and let him stick to himself. 

He sunk deeper and deeper into this spiral of his as August turned to September and September hurtled towards October. He wasn't himself and everybody who saw him could tell. His eyes no longer lit up, he didn't scream and bark at anyone who told him what to do, he hadn't genuinely smiled in weeks. This not only affected him, but also his rinkmates. 

They all separately pulled him aside and attempted to get him to snap out of it, but nothing seemed to work. They knew he needed time, but time was running out as his first competition approached. He did what he knew how to do, he laced up his skates and took to the ice. 

"You act as if your heart was broken," Georgi had said. 

"You're a tough kid, don't let this stop you," Mila. 

"This does sit well on you Yuri, how can you expect to win if you aren't beautiful," Lilia. 

"You stopped telling your story out there, the audience wants to see your story, the judges want to see your story, we want to see your story," Victor. 

"You're upset, be upset. You're angry, be angry. But whatever this is isn't you," Yuuri. 

In the end it was Yakov who managed to get through to him. "Yuri Plisetsky," the gruff old man said. "Where did you go?"

"I'm right here," Yuri's voice was hollow. 

"You're not Yuri," Yakov shook his head. "You've done exactly as I've said in practice for a month now. You've been following rules and not yelling at anybody. That's not Yuri Plisetsky."

"I am Yuri," Yuri muttered. 

"Not right now you aren't," Yakov frowned. "We know you're upset, all of us know that. But you come in here every day and drag everyone down with you and that's enough. You let this media stuff get to your head. It's October, you have Skate America in three weeks. I expect Yuri Plisetsky to walk through that door tomorrow for practice."

"I come every day," Yuri's voice still remained monotonous. 

"No, Yuri hasn't been to practice since August and it's quite unlike him to miss," the coach said. "You can't stop the media rumor mill, trying to is just going to run you down. But you can rise above it. And isn't Yuri Plisetsky someone who rises above. I sure remember that from him."

Yuri found himself nodding at that statement. 

"Now go back out there and finish practice for the day," Yakov told him. "And realize that those people on the ice with you are your safety net, they'll catch you if you fall."

Yuri thought about that as he slipped his safety guards off his skates and stepped onto the rink again. He supposed Yakov was right, he was letting the media get to his head. He had gotten so caught up in what had happened that he forgot his goal. That was rather unlike him. He was Yuri Plisetsky, the media couldn't get to him. He could rise above it all, he would rise above it. 

He propelled himself across the ice and into a quad salchow, the jump he had taken so long to train his body for. He didn't do much in means of practicing his programs but he skated with an energy that he had been lacking for the last month. 

"Out of my way hag," he mumbled half heartedly when he came across Mila. 

"Yuri!" Her face practically lit up and she threw her arms around him, knocking both of them to the ice. Yuri hissed in pain. 

"What's going on?!" Victor asked, excited by the commotion. 

"Yuri's back," Mila was ecstatic. The simple statement caused everyone on the ice to rush over to him and ensnare him in one large hug. 

"Let me go, dammit," his voice was still mostly devoid of emotion but everybody could tell he was feeling a bit better. 

Yuri shoved them all away from him and skated a few laps to cool down before leaving the ice and changing out of his practice clothes. He had enough of people for the day. He just wanted to get back to Victor and Yuuri's and curl up with his cat. Until recently the cat had been staying at Lilia's, but after everything went down, they moved it Victor and Yuuri's so that Yuri would have that comfort. 

It was almost funny how different everyone was treating him after the media thing blew up. Had he not been so affected he might have even found it laughable. But he didn't. Being around people for too long just made him irritated. And even skating couldn't calm him down once it got to be too much. 

Somehow Victor and Yuuri seemed to always know when he needed to go back, and one or both of them would go back with him. It was both of them this time. 

Yuri had only been sitting on the bench for a few minutes when Victor and Yuuri came up to him, skates slung over their shoulders. "Ready to go home I assume," Victor smiled. "It was a good practice today."

"Only three weeks until Skate America," Yuuri pointed out. "Mila's been working hard. I can't imagine her not medalling."

"What about me," Yuri muttered to them. "I'm gonna medal too."

"Are you now?" Victor lead them outside and started heading off towards their home. "The boy on the ice I've been seeing recently doesn't seem like someone who can win."

"He has a point," Yuuri agreed. "You're not telling a story out there. You seem defeated. If that's what you were going for then you'd have it down already. But defeat and humility aren't the same thing. You look like you gave up completely."

"Definitely not?" Yuri said, a question in his voice. "No," he shook his head. "Definitely not," a steely edge laced his words this time. 

If he had been paying attention he would've noticed Victor and Yuuri exchanging a look above his head, both of them seeming relieved. "Good, I want some competition as I try for my sixth world championship this season," Victor grinned. 

"And I want some competition for my second world championship," Yuuri added. 

"Well I'm gonna beat both of you," he glared at them. 

"Now now, that's not very humble of you," Victor tsked. 

"You wouldn't know humility if someone shoved it up your ass old man," Yuri's tone was much more subdued than it usually was but biting nonetheless. 

"Oh I've certainly had that before," Victor winked, flicking his gaze over to Yuuri for half a second. 

"No, no, no. I don't even want to know. That is disgusting I hate you!" Yuri slammed his hands over his ears and refused to look at either of them even after they arrived back home. 

Yuri pointedly ignored them for the rest of the night, not even bothering to speak to them over dinner. He didn't want to know anything about their sex lives, he already had to live with them and headphones can only drown out so much. 

He opted to go to bed earlier than usual and fell asleep immediately. Come morning, he found himself face down on his pillow with one hand on Empress, his cat. He blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes and he stretched out, careful not to hit Empress in the process. Sleep normally wasn't that effortless for him so he assumed that yesterday must've been more exhausting than he thought it was. 

It turned out that practice was even more exhausting now that he was more himself. As soon as his blades touched the ice, Yakov was there barking out orders. Making him run through that step sequence, that jump, that spin. Over and over until his head swam and his limbs grew heavy. He knew the coach had been taking it a bit easy on him but he wasn't expecting this degree of work. 

Yuri was gasping for air when they stopped for lunch. "Crazy old man," he muttered, glaring at Yakov who seemed quite pleased with himself. 

He didn't even bother changing into his shoes after taking off his skates, opting to pad around sock footed instead. "I'm starving," he barked. "Somebody give me food."

He was then hit it the face by a sandwich. "Eat up, you have a lot of work to do," Georgi grinned at him. 

"Oh yeah, you need to try on your costumes and see if any adjustments are needed," Yuuri told him. "The rest of us did that a week ago while you were moping on a bench somewhere."

"Ah yes," Yakov's voice joined the mix. "Finish your lunch, check your costume fitting with Yuuri, and then it's ballet with Lilia for the remainder of the day."

Yuri buried his face in his hands and groaned. That sounded terrible. Deciding to delay the inevitable as much as he could, he sat down on a bench and began the way the sandwich Georgi had thrown him. Very, very slowly. 

It was the worst kind of sandwich really, he assumed they gave it to him knowing that it contained several things he didn't like. The ham was fine but the cheese was atrocious, more like rubber than food. And to make it worse it had gratuitous amounts of mustard on it. He hated mustard. 

Normally Yuuri would pack a lunch for all three of them, but they were running late that day and Yakov had agreed to provide food anyway. Yuri suspected they did it on purpose, conspiring to make him eat a pitiful excuse for lunch. But he was hungry and it was food so he didn't voice his complaints like he normally would. That didn't stop him from glaring at everybody though. 

"That sandwich won't eat itself," Yuuri took a seat on the bench next to him, holding his own sandwich. A sandwich that looked much much nicer. 

"I'm eating it," Yuri grumbled, shooting a wistful look at Yuuri's lunch. "The longer it takes the longer my break."

"Or the less you eat because break is almost up," Yuuri nudged him with his elbow. "Cmon Yuri, today's a busy day. You need to be ready for Skate America, it's approaching quickly."

"Well you have to be ready for Skate Canada," Yuri frowned, taking another bite of that awful sandwich. "That's coming up soon too."

"Yours is first though," Yuuri said happily, finishing off his lunch and wiping his hands. "So you'd better hurry up there. Unless you'd rather have Mila help you with your costumes?"

"I am eating," he took the biggest bite he possibly could without choking and ate it so quickly he could hardly taste it. "I want you to help me," he said around a mouthful of food. 

"What was that?" Yuuri put a hand to his year. 

Yuri swallowed and glared at him. "You're helping me," he frowned. "I don't want them to see me changing. You should know the fitting better anyway," he mumbled. 

"I'm gonna go get your costumes out so meet me in changing room when you're done with that," Yuuri gestured to the mangled remains of the sandwich. 

Yuri glared at the sandwich. There was only a bite or two left, it mocked him. So much mustard, it was disgusting. He finished it anyway and then downed half his water bottle to try and wash the taste away. 

He sat on the bench for as long as he dared before begrudgingly joining Yuuri in the changing room. The costume rack was pushed against the back wall and his two and been pulled off and hung up near the door. 

"How do you normally wear your costumes?" Yuuri asked him. 

"Um, the way they're supposed to be worn?" Yuri was confused now. 

"In regards to your chest Yuri," the older man clarified. "What do you do?"

"I wear my binder," he answered, somewhat defensively. 

"Not the best for performance but I'm not one to speak," Yuuri shrugged. "You can't wear it with these though."

"I'm not skating without it?!" Yuri's eyes widened in horror. "After all that media shit, this would just be a confirmation of such."

"Let me rephrase that," Yuuri waved his hands as if to say stop. "You don't need to wear it with these, it's built it. Try it on, you'll see what I mean."

Yuri did as he was told and soon he was wearing his free skate costume. He couldn't even tell he wasn't wearing a binder when he looked in the mirror. "This is actually really nice. How did they get it like so?"

"Oh, I had a few years of working with costume designers before I had surgery," Yuuri tapped his chest where his scars were. "It's designed to maximize how flat your chest appears while minimizing how much it's constricted. It should be a bit easier to breath in that than if you were to perform in your binder. This isn't really a binder so much as it is a stiff fabric and a creative design."

"That's what you talked to her about after she measured me," Yuri smiled. "Thanks Katsudon, that was nice of you."

The costume itself had turned out quite well, he thought. The simplicity of its design went well with what he wanted to portray. The costume was solid black except for a part near the neck that was a very soft green color. It was relatively unadorned except for the front of the chest and stomach. That part was made from a different, slightly shinier fabric and a couple rows of silver buttons on it. All in all it was a nice costume. 

After doing a few ballet moves and going through the motion of a toe loop jump, Yuri determined that the costume fit and needed no alterations. 

His short program costume didn't fit as well as he would've liked however. The pants were too baggy and the shirt wasn't flowy enough for what he wanted. Worst of all, it barely did anything for his chest. He practically tore it off and started grumbling. "This fits terribly, how am I supposed to skate in something like this?" He demanded, causing Yuuri—who had been standing by the costume rack—to jump. 

"Ah," Yuuri startled. "Let me see that," he took the costume from Yuri. "Oh sorry, my bad. This one isn't yours, the colors were similar and I wasn't paying attention," he fumbled around at the rack for a few seconds before holding out another costume. "This one is yours."

Yuri snatched the costume away and could tell right away that it would fit him much better. It took him a minute to figure out how exactly he was to put it on but once he did it was easy from there. The top consisted of a white undershirt that was rather stiff but still easy to move in and not uncomfortable, above that was the actual costume part. A flowy shirt that was dark purplish-red  towards the bottom and faded to white at the top, the fabric was thin enough that it was slightly see through at the lightest parts. The pants were much the same as for his free skate just a little looser. 

Once again he pranced about in the costume and found that it fit to his liking. "The designer did good this year," he nodded his approval. "Usually I need several alterations to be done to it."

"Well I suppose it's good you like yours," Yuuri told him. "Victor almost decided to completely redesign his free skate costume so that one is gonna take some work. At least he's not competing until France."

"That old man is never satisfied," Yuri scoffed. "He's awful."

"Oh we all are," Yuuri said simply. "I'm heading back out on the ice, been practicing my quad flip. You should hurry up and change into your ballet clothes. You know Lilia won't want to be kept waiting."

Yuri grumbled at the reminder of what he was in store with for the rest of the day but went about changing anyway. Albeit much slower than he normally would.

He definitely was feeling batter about everything than he had been, but one day wasn't enough for him to snap out of it completely. And if he was being honest, most of the interactions he'd had with people so far felt rather forced. But he was determined to not wallow in it as much. 

He was more emotionally exhausted than anything but with the competition quickly approaching he couldn't afford to ignore practice anymore. His heart wasn't in it lately and even if he could score a near perfect technical score, his performance score would be abysmal at best if he kept this up. 

Humility was far from what he was feeling at the moment. Pathetic was what he was, pitiful, undeserving. He was deep in thought about the sorry excuse of a skater he was at the moment as he walked to the ballet studio. He couldn't focus on the message he wanted to get across, time and time again he went back to that fateful moment he saw that article. That one second in which his entire life crumbled before him. It didn't matter that he had yet to confirm or deny anything, it didn't matter that he had an outpouring of support from those around him. It was a hollow meaningless thing for people to smile and say it was okay. 

"Yuri!" Lilia's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Are you here to practice or to wallow?"

"I will practice," Yuri said just loud enough that she could hear him. He walked over to the barre and began to stretch out for what was surely to be a long session ahead of him. 

Ballet by itself reminded him of his early childhood, it was one of the only reminders of it that wasn't marred in his memory. Ballet wasn't a comfort like the ice was however, if anything it was a cold harsh reminder of something that he was, something he could have been. It wasn't an unpleasant reminder, but it wasn't pleasant either. 

He danced because he skated, and he skated because skating was flying. And somewhere along the way he forgot what had drawn him to it the first place. He supposed that that was what he was searching for some days, that spark that started everything. 

That spark that started a fire, a fire that's flames were the smallest they had ever been. It was almost funny how one small moment could all but extinguish him. A spark started it all, ballet was just kindling, ice skating was logs, and he was a forest ablaze. But it was as if that one moment had sucked the oxygen from the air and the flames died, it suffocated him. 

"Something is on your mind Yuri," the voice reminded him of what he was doing. "You're distracted. Distraction won't lead to beauty."

"I am not beautiful," Yuri's voice was bitter. 

"You are beautiful," Lilia stated. "But right now you are something else, something other. Not one of us know what it is. You likely do not know what it is either. You can harness that, take your pain, take your sadness, and turn it into beauty. Hand it back to the world and say 'I am Yuri Plisetsky, this is not what defines me. I will rise above it.' Let that be your humility, your pride. They are one and the same."

"Those are opposites though," he was very confused. How could pride and humility be the same thing?

"That is who you are Yuri," she told him. "You are a boy built of opposites. Your weakness is your strength. Your hatred is your love. You are a fighter, a healer, a dancer. You never back down but you know when you've lost. Your humility is your pride."

"O-okay," he still didn't quite understand what she meant, but he nodded and went back to practice with the thought in mind.

By the time he was done with Lilia, the sun had began to sink below the horizon and the rink was mostly empty. He wandered out to the bench he usually waited on and took a seat. From where he was at he just make out the sounds of voices from the other side of the wall. 

"-still a kid. You have to understand that," it sounded like Yuuri. 

"I know," Yakov this time. "It's a process that takes a while. Can't really speed it up much."

"I'm aware," Yuuri again. "Keep me updated, this is important. And think about what I said."

Yuri couldn't catch anything after that. His head was swimming both with tiredness and thoughts, and all he wanted was a shower and food before crawling in bed. 

"Oh Yurio, good you're all done," Victor walked up to him, Yuuri appearing not too far behind. "Now we can go home."

Yuri didn't acknowledge Victor, instead he glanced over to Yuuri. "What were talking to Yakov about?" He asked. 

"Nothing, nothing," Yuuri waved his hands. "Nothing to worry yourself over."

"Fine," Yuri grumbled, knowing very well that meant it was something important. "Take me home, I'm tired."

Exhausted would be a better word for how he felt, and that's only because he could think of a word that fit what he was feeling any better than that. He felt heavy both physically and emotionally, a rather unpleasant combination in his opinion. 

He felt drained and the world around him seemed kind of fuzzy, as if everything was just a bit out of focus from him. Or as if he was out of focus with reality. He was merely a shadow of himself, a fleeting glimpse of who he really was. 

He hardly seemed to notice them arriving back at Victor's, much less the plate of food set in front of him at one point. But they arrived back and he was given food. He must have eaten it too because he saw an empty plate taken from his hands. He was tired. 

Maybe he would go to sleep, maybe if he did he would float away completely and not come back until it was okay again. That sounded like a good idea. He smiled. 

"Yuri, Yuri?" That was his name. "Yuri! Yuri!" The shout got his attention and he jolted. 

"Ah, what?!" Yuri looked around bewildered, he blinked a few times before finding the person in front of him. 

"We've been talking to you for ten minutes, are you okay?" Yuuri asked. "You seem out of it."

"I don't know," Yuri told the truth. "I slipped away for a bit there. I'm tired," he curled in on himself at that statement, making himself as small as possible. "It's not gonna be okay ever again is it?" His voice was weak. 

"Is that what this is about?" Yuuri asked softly. "The articles? Yuri, it is okay. You are okay. You're here with me and with Victor. Even Makkachin and Empress too."

"But what if it's not okay?" He sounded pitiful, he hated it. "Nobody wants me here. I'm a mistake, I do everything wrong. If that wasn't true I'd still be her," he spat the word. "I'd be that darling angel. But I was a mistake. They didn't want me after that Yuuri."

"Your parents," Yuuri said softly, not quite asking a question but almost. 

"I'm a boy but nobody wanted a boy," he sniffled. "Nobody. And now the whole entire world knows it and they won't want me either."

"You are a wonderful person," Yuuri's voice was soothing. "We are honored to have you. The rink is livelier with you there. This place is homier with you here. You have an important place with all of us. We want you. It doesn't matter if this is something that made people not want you in the past. That doesn't mean it will be that way forever."

"Okay," he whimpered. "I want to go to bed. I wanna sleep now. Please can I sleep."

"Of course," it was Victor who spoke this time. "Do you want to stay on the couch or go in your room?"

"Don't want to move," Yuri shook his head. "I'll just stay right here tonight."

"You make yourself comfortable then," Victor told him, we'll get you a nice blanket and a pillow."

Yuri nodded at that and fell into a half sleep while waiting for the blanket. When it did come, warm and heavy as it settled over his limbs, he fell asleep right then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on this as much as I can, but there's this little thing called college that slows me down a bit. This isn't the type of writing I'm best at so if it ever seems forced that's probably why. I am an excellent academic writer, but fiction is structured differently so I'm doing my best. All of your comments have been so nice. You make this trans boy smile. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	6. Of Midnight Walks and Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has some memories/flashbacks in it. They're denoted in italics. There is a lot of transphobia and I guess emotional abuse in this, mostly in the memories. Yuri backstory time.

Yuri awoke to a dull ache in his head and utter silence. There was no light coming in through the windows yet. He half expected Victor to come parading out of his room at any moment ready to start the day. He swatted around for his phone and found it resting on the end table off to the side of the couch.

He clicked it on, squinting his eyes at the brightness of it before managing to turn it down. The screen stared up at him:

1:37 AM  
Tuesday, October 4

That explained it. Of course Victor wasn't prancing about in displays of inhuman exuberance at the morning sun, it was too early even for that annoyingly chipper morning person.

Yuri glared at the screen, it wasn't supposed to be so early. He wanted to go back to bed but as much as he tried he just couldn't fall asleep again. The room became stifling.

The air felt too stiff and he couldn't breath. He needed to get out. He climbed off of the couch and padded his way towards the front door, grabbing a jacket and shoes before slipping outside, careful not to let the door make too much noise. He needed to get outside for a while, the cold air was already clearing his head just from the few breaths he had taken.

Victor's place was in a relatively safe community so going outside in the middle of the night wasn't a prospect that scared Yuri. If anything the night felt comforting. The familiar cold press of the autumn air against his cheeks.

There was a small park not too far from the place and that was where he found himself walking. The center of the park boasted a little pond that was home to many ducks during the warmer parts of the year. It reminded Yuri of the park he played at as a little kid. That was probably why he felt himself drawn to the place.

He was confused about everything and he still hadn't processed what had happened. It was hard for him to think about and when he did think about it, he seemed to break down in some way. He hated it.

It wasn't fear exactly that made him so unable to think about what had happened, though that certainly played a part. Fear of the past repeating itself, fear of the unknown. The intersection of those two was rather unpleasant. He had spent his whole life walking on a tightrope from place to place.

First he did ballet because the fluid movements came easy to his small body. Then that fluidity turned into something that he couldn't be. He was just a little kid at the time but it hurt him. Then it was ice skating because the ice let him be angry. He danced upon the line between the two when he was too small to do much in either. But good enough that that didn't matter.

He was unhappy with it all so he threw it away. Tore up his leotards and tutus, destroyed his first pair of skates. Took a pair of scissors to his hair. The results were ugly and he cried. He didn't understand what he was feeling.

It was the same now as it was then, he still didn't know how to deal with it. He put himself into a role that was him, but he didn't let anyone know how he got there. He didn't think about it beyond what it forced him to. And he skated.

He was always angry as one who never addresses their problems tends to be. But if he thought about it then he'd remember the shouting and the crying and the smashing of things from childhood. So he tuned it out and only replied to what demanded a response.

It was exhausting and it led him to this, sitting outside staring at a pond in the middle of the night. The air was cold but not biting. The light from the moon overhead was soft. And he was alone with his thoughts.

Thoughts he had been running away from his entire life. It was an aspect of himself that he largely ignored, preferring to pretend that it didn't exist. It was only recently that he had begun to discuss it more openly. Seeing how Yuuri was so open about it helped him realize that it wasn't something he had to be ashamed of. But he was ashamed of it anyway.

Somehow it had become a reminder of everything that had gone wrong in his life. Everything that had ever hurt him. It was irreversibly wound into his worst memories. It rooted itself there and branched out into every aspect of him, from figure to skating to friendships. It was a constant fear that held him back.

Yuri was tired of that fear. He was tired of fighting it but he didn't know how to accept it. He didn't know what to do.

He didn't notice he had been crying until the cold night air met the tears on his cheeks. He wasn't sure what had prompted the tears, but they fell uncontrollably. He didn't bother to stop them.

Everything about this park was an aching reminder of childhood. So much so that several memories surfaced in his mind.

\--  
 _"Momma, this fits funny," the three year old complained, tugging at the pink leotard and tutu that was adorning their small frame._

_"Oh darling, you'll get used to it," the child's mother cooed as she adjusted the bun atop the kid's head. "You have to wear it for the recital. It's your first one after all!"_

_"I wanna wear that," the kid pointed to one of the little boys who was also performing in the recital. His costume was much less frilly._

_"Nonsense Yeva," the mother shook her head, her lips curving downwards. "Only boys wear that. And you're not a boy, are you?"_

_"No, momma, I'm a girl," the little kid said, not understanding what those words meant._

_"A very pretty girl too," the mother smiled. "And talented. Your teachers say you're the best in the class. They want to move you up with the big kids after the recital."_

_"I'm be a big girl?" The child asked._

_"Yes, you are," the mother led the child by the hand towards the rest of the group. "Have fun on stage tonight. I'll be watching_."  
\--

Yuri frowned at the memory, it was hazy but he could still remember it. He hadn't caught the strange look in his mother's eyes when that had happened. But thinking back on it now he knew she had been upset at his simple statement.

That hadn't been the only instance like that, just the first he could remember. There were many, many others now that he thought about it.

_\--  
"Are they flying momma?" The now four year old asked, gaping in awe at the figures on the ice._

_"Those are figure skaters Yeva, they're ice skating," the mother answered._

_The child's attention was captured, green eyes filled with determination and focus. "I'm gonna be just like them," they asserted._

_"You need to focus on ballet," the mother said. "We're just here for fun today."_

_The child paid their mother no mind. The people on the ice were jumping and that was the most important thing in the room. "I'm gonna do that someday," the child insisted, pointing towards the man who had just land a quadruple toe loop. "Did you see that momma, he spun and spun and spun. That must have been five hundred times."_

_"Girls can't do jumps like that Yeva," the mother shook her head. "Only boys. And you're a girl so you can't do it."_

_"I'll be a boy then," the child puffed out their chest in pride. "I can do it."_

_"You are a girl," the mother frowned, dragging the child away from the practice and towards the public rink._   
\--

Yuri sighed, these were memories he never let himself think about. These were the ones that pained him the most to dwell on.

It seemed like every significant moment of his childhood was marred by one of those comments from his mother. A nasty look or statement, something that should have clued him in to how she would react later one.

\--  
" _You did so well today Yeva," the child's grandfather beamed. "You were the best out there by far."_

_The child grinned proudly, clutching a plastic gold trophy. It was the child's first ice skating competition ever. Though it wasn't really a competition, more like an exhibition of what that children were learning. "It was fun dushka," the child's mouth still couldn't quite handle the full word._

_The grandfather chuckled at the pronunciation. "You've been working hard I assume."_

_"Yeah," the child nodded eagerly. "I can skate without falling now. It's like ballet but more fun."_

_"You're gonna be a real star someday," the grandfather ruffled the child's hair._

_"Where's momma?" The child asked. "She always comes to recitals."_

_"She was busy Yeva, don't worry about it," the grandfather smiled_.   
\--

Yuri's mother had never appreciated his love of ice skating. He had known that from the second he fell in love with the ice. She wasn't happy about it but allowed him to skate as long as he kept up with ballet. It was an odd balance between the two, it tired him out but she didn't mind that.

When he was little he thought ice skating was the best thing in the world, he still did. He didn't understand why his mother didn't cheer him on the same way she did for ballet. But he never asked her about it.

He was very busy as a child. With ballet and ice skating and school all mixed in, he never had much time for playing.

\--  
 _The child stood atop a playset, jacket tied around their shoulders like a cape. "I'm superman," they giggled, jumping from higher than they should have and laughing at the impact. They didn't notice their mother's presence. It was the school playground after all._

_The child zoomed around happily, inventing villains and fighting them off. "I'm superman take that," they attacked the imaginary bad guys. "No I'm better than that, I'm Super Yuri," they laughed some more._

_"Yeva!" Their mother's voice was angry and they froze immediately._

_"Momma? Why are you here, it's school time," the child was confused._

_"Teacher conferences," the mother was irritated. "I told you I would be coming today. Didn't you notice you were the only kid left."_

_The child looked around, they hadn't noticed that all the other kids had been leaving slowly. "Oh, what did teacher say about me?"_

_"She said you do well on assignments," the mother sounded cold. "Your arithmetic is quite good for your age and your spelling and grammar is nice too. You need to work on your penmanship though, it's sloppy like a boys," she frowned even deeper. "She also said that you've asked to be called Yuri in class."_

_"Yeah, it's my name," Yuri nodded happily. "It's a cool name, makes me sound strong like a tiger."_

_"Your name is Yeva," the mother snapped. "Yuri is a boy's name and you are a girl."_

_"But momma," Yuri's lip began to wobble. "I don't wanna-"_

_The mother cut Yuri off. "We're going home. You can speak to Papa about this_."  
\--

The harshness in his mother's voice was crystal clear in the memory. He remembered just how angry she had sounded at him. It didn't make sense.

He had thought Yeva was a silly name, a weak name and he wanted a better name than that so he asked everyone to call him Yuri. Yuri was the name of a character in a book he loved when he was learning to read, he couldn't remember what book it was now but the name had stuck.

He had been so confused as a child. He was obviously a boy, but nobody else saw that and it made him angry. He hated it but he couldn't do anything about it. He thought that someone had made a mistake when he was born and that's why he wasn't a boy like he should be.

\--  
" _Momma? Papa?" Yuri stepped into the living room. There was something very important to tell them._

_"Yes, Yeva?" The father asked. "Do you need help with your arithmetic again. Another tricky problem?"_

_"No papa," Yuri shook their head. "I don't have arithmetic today."_

_"Yeva, you have a recital to be getting ready for," the mother said. "Where is your costume?"_

_"I can't wear that costume," Yuri shook their head, this was the important part._

_"And why is that?" The mother frowned. "Did you get your snack on it, I told you not to eat with it on."_

_"No momma, it's not that," Yuri said. "It's a girl costume. I can't wear a girl costume."_

_"What do you mean Yeva, you're a girl," the father was confused._

_"I'm a boy," Yuri admitted, saying the words aloud for the first time. Well he had said them before to see how they felt but this time was real._

_"A boy?!" His father was surprised. "No you're not."_

_"Am too," Yuri frowned. "When I was born the doctors made a mistake. They said I was a girl but I'm a boy."_

_"Yeva, you are a girl," his mother's voice was scary. "You will always be a girl. You cannot change that. I don't know who put this ridiculous idea in your head but I have put up with it for too long," she was yelling now. Yuri whimpered. "Boys don't make pathetic sounds like that. How could you ever be a boy?"_

_"I-I am a boy?" Yuri's eyes brimmed with tears. "A boy a boy a boy," he screamed._

_"No more ice skating until you're over this idiocy," his mother shouted, looming over the small kid. "You are a girl and that is final," she grabbed him by the wrist and drug him towards his room, not caring about the whimpers he made as the carpet burnt his skin. "Get ready for your recital."_

_"Go away!" Yuri screamed, wriggling free from his mother once they arrived in his room. "Stop it, you're hurting me. That hurt," he pulled his wrist up against his chest and whimpered, bright red marks were where her fingers had been._

_"Little boys don't cry like that Yeva," the mother snarled. "You're no boy."_

_Yuri slammed his door shut at that and turned the lock even though he was never supposed to use it. He screamed until his throat couldn't handle it anymore and then resorted to crying._

_His costume for the recital was lying on his bed, he picked it up and started_ _to tear out it, grabbing some scissors from his craft table to aid in the process. It took a matter of minutes to render it unwearable._

_He didn't stop there, every costume, leotard, and tutu he owned—and there were a lot of them—was soon destroyed and on the floor. He shouted and cried through the entire process._

_Even with that he still hadn't gotten all his anger out. His eyes landed on his ice skates, his mother had bought them second or third hand and they didn't fit right anyway. He was careful to leave the blade guards on as he destroyed them._

_Once those were wrecked he took in the carnage in his room. His small chest was heaving and his face and throat burned from crying. There was only one thing left to do before it was complete._

_He stood in front of the mirror off to one corner and grabbed to scissors once again, bringing them up to his hair. The scissors were meant for cutting paper so they weren't the most effective, but by the time he was done he had roughly chopped off his hair so that it came to just above his ears. The golden strands of hair joined in with all the torn cloth and he felt lighter in a way_.

_It was then that his door was unlocked and thrown open. "You know better than to lock that, don't do it again," his father sounded angry but that was nothing compared to what came out of his mouth a moment later. "Yeva! You little shot, what the fuck did you do," his father shouted, a deep booming sound that shook Yuri to his core._

" _It's Yuri!" Yuri shouted back. "And I fixed it."_

_His father picked him up and threw him onto his bed. "You stay right there, don't move," he left the room._

_Yuri was too scared to leave the bed, he didn't know what they were gonna do to him now. When his mother came in a few minute later yielding a wooden spoon from the kitchen he winced. "Momma, please no," he sobbed._

_She hit his backside with it just once which left him dying before turning towards his shelfs. "Take this as a lesson, young lady,"she spat. "You don't get to destroy your clothes or cut your hair." She took the spoon to his belongings and began to smash everything._

_A piggy bank he painted at a birthday party once, a tiger sculpture he got from a zoo, crafts he had made at school, every single one of his figure skating awards. She didn't touch the ballet ones._

_He screamed and shouted at her to stop, but it was useless. Everything he cared about was destroyed before his very eyes. He sobbed some more, burying his head into his pillow._

_He didn't even notice his father packing a bag full of his clothes. It felt like hours before his parents acknowledged him again._

_"You're going to your grandfather's Yeva," his father frowned, he at least seemed calmer than his mother did. "It's best if you stay with him for a while."_

_Yuri didn't fight his parents as they carried him to the car and buckled him in. He was too tired and scared to even cry at that point. "M-momma, when do I come home?" He hiccuped._

_"A week, maybe two," she refused to look at him. "Once you get this out of your head."_

_Yuri whimpered as he got out of the car at his grandfather's. It was cold and he was barefoot and didn't have a coat on.  "Momma, papa, I love you, don't leave."_

_"You're not my kid," his mother shook her head and walked away. His father said nothing._

_Yuri knocked on the door with his small fist, hoping his grandfather was still awake. He knocked a few times before the door was finally opened._

_"Yeva?!" His grandfather was startled. "What are you doing here? What happened to your hair?"_

_"I cut it," Yuri sniffled. "Momma and papa don't want me anymore, dedushka. It's cause I'm a boy, I'm Yuri."_

_His grandfather picked him up and took his bag from Yuri's father, shooting a cold glare at him and shaking his head. "Don't you worry Yurochka, you're safe with me." The door fell shut._

_His parents never came back for him_.   
\--

Fresh tears fell at the memory and Yuri wrapped his arms around himself. He had been so confused, he didn't understand why they stopped loving him that day. If it weren't for his grandfather taking him in, he didn't know what would've happened.

He of course still ran into his parents at certain events, but they mostly ignored each other over those years. His grandfather didn't have much money, but he never denied Yuri anything he needed. He encouraged Yuri to pursue his passion and was there to cheer him on along the way.

Yuri hadn't seen his parents in years. The last time he saw them was the year he began competing in Juniors. He had made it to the Junior Grand Prix Final, and he thought that maybe if he told them how well he was doing they would want to come see him skate. He even had procured tickets for them.

\--  
 _Knocking on the door was the hardest thing Yuri had done in a while. Though it shouldn't have been hard, this was where he spent half his life. He grew up on the other side of these doors. But it was hard because he hadn't been there in so long, he wasn't welcome anymore._

_It was his father who opened the door. "Yeva?" He seemed shocked as if it was the last person who he expected._

_"It's Yuri," Yuri corrected. "May I come in? I would like to speak to you and momma."_

_"I suppose you might as well," his father let him come inside and led him into the living room._

_The house was much the same as he remembered it. It was homey and comfortable with the kind of atmosphere one would expect from very caring people. There were pictures of him everywhere. All of which were of him as a child._

_"What do you want girl?" His mother frowned at him._

_"I'm a boy," Yuri muttered, wringing his hands together. This was harder than he expected. "I um...well I," his throat grew dry and he had trouble speaking._

_"You what," his mother prompted. "Get to the point."_

_Yuri swallowed and nodded. "Okay so um...well you know that I uh, I um..." he hated how much he was stuttering._

_"What are you trying to say?" He father asked, sounding impatient._

_"Okay so um," Yuri stared at his lap. "Well I uh, figure skate. I still do, I don't know if you knew that."_

_"Of course we know that you skate," his mother waved her hand. "Get on with it."_

_"Professionally," he continued. "I train in St. Petersburg under the same coach as Victor Nikiforov, if you know who that is."_

_"We know who Nikiforov is," his father said. "Everybody knows, he's Russia's star."_

_"Well anyway," Yuri said. "I started skating in the Junior division this year and I made it to the Grand Prix Final, which is a big deal. I'm favored to win actually," he admitted, a fact that he was normally boastful about but he felt scared to tell them._

_"What about it?" His mother asked._

_"I thought you two might want to come watch," he looked around nervously. "I mean, I am your kid after all. I have two tickets for you if you'd like them."_

_"You aren't my child," his mother said. "I had a daughter once, but she passed away a few years."_

_"I'm not dead," Yuri shook his head. "I'm right here."_

_"You're an imposter. My daughter was Yeva Plisetskaya," she stated. "She was extremely talented, we were distraught at her sudden death. Nobody saw it coming."_

_"She was a lovely child," his father added._

_"I am very much alive," Yuri insisted._

_"You killed her, she was my daughter and you killed her," his mother spat. "I don't know what makes you think you have the right to be here flaunting that around."_

_"Momma, I'm right here," Yuri stated, hesitantly looking over at her._

_"Don't call me momma, you lost that right a long time ago," she glowered at him._

_"You're no child of ours," he father shook his head._

_"You're a monster is what you are," his mother spat. "You killed Yeva. You're out there dancing like she should be. You murdered her and I want her back."_

_"I am right here. I didn't go anywhere, I'm still the same person," Yuri pleaded, he knew it was useless but a part of him wanted them to say he was right._

_"Monsters, the whole lot of you," his mother declared. "Murderers. You stole my daughter, she was my pride and joy. And now she's dead and I didn't get a body to bury. Nobody will ever want someone like you. You're worthless."_

_Yuri's eyes began to sting and he stood up quickly, ignoring the blood rush and taking a few stumbling steps towards the door. He refused to let them see him cry._

_"You're just a nasty thing. Nobody is going to want you. You're a monster, a disgusting worthless monster," his mother shouted after him. "You are no child of mine."_

_"It's best you don't come back," his father told him as he found his way out the door._

_The words rung through his head all the back to his grandfather's car. He climbed in wordlessly and let the tears fall_.   
\--

The words still played in the back of his head on his bad days. It was especially awful in the aftermath of the press stories. He had refused to answer any questions pertaining to it but even that baseless rumor was enough for him to remember everything.

Of course the rumor was a true one, but he didn't ever want to confirm it because confirming it would mean that he would be rejected by his fans and shunned. He didn't want to deal with that again.

He found himself scrubbing at his tears once again. "I'm a joke," he whispered to himself. "I'm a joke," he laughed bitterly.

But then he thought of his grandfather. The old man was all gentle smiles and pats on the back. He always made sure Yuri had what he needed and was taken care of. He supported him every step of the way and was the main reason why he didn't quit skating.

Then he thought of Yakov. The gruff coach had taken him in as an angry young boy and taught him to skate professionally. Taught him to fly on the ice just like those skaters he had seen when he was young. He had given Yuri the means to express himself and the ability to win.

There were Mila and Georgi and all his other rinkmates who laughed with him and teased him. They fed into his competitive spirit but never let him tear them or himself down over a score.

His fellow competitors JJ, Chris, Guang-Hong and many others who had shared the ice with him. They treated him with respect even if they had a strange way of showing it sometimes. From novice to junior to senior, his competitors had always treated him like someone who could win.

There was Otabek, his friend. Who had embraced him and accepted his mannerisms. He always wished him the best even as they competed against each other.

Then he thought of Victor who he had met at a very young age. He had always been ridiculously kind to him. Victor had been the one to acknowledge his potential outloud to everyone. Victor had been the one to show him how to land a quad. And he hadn't questioned him when it seemed it took all his energy to master even one. Victor who had welcomed him into his home and made sure he was never left out.

And then there was Yuuri who complemented Victor in every way. Yuuri who treated him as a real threat even though he was much younger. Yuuri who never let him tear himself down. He had been the one to show him that it was okay and that people cared. He had been the one that accepted him first and comforted him when he couldn't accept himself.

"Fuck you momma," he muttered. "You were wrong." And for once he almost believed those words.

He had people who cared about him and who wouldn't let him fall, he just had never seen this before.

Yuri wiped at his eyes one last time and stood up, his legs a bit stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. He found himself yawning as he made his way back to Victor's. He certainly felt much lighter than he had when he slipped out.

The warm air that greeted him upon opening the door was nice, he hadn't noticed his cold he had gotten from being outside. Thankfully it was still silent inside and it didn't seem like anyone had noticed that he had left.

After hanging up his coat and taking his shoes off, he crawled back under the blanket on the couch and fell asleep right away.

When he woke up a few hours later he had a strange weight on his face and lower legs. He slowly peeked his eyes open to find that Empress had decided that his head was a perfect place to sleep and that Makkachin had decided the same of his legs. He groaned upon this realization.

"Sounds like Yuuri's up!" Victor's voice chimed. "Finally we're all awake. What a great day. The sun is shining and the birds are singing."

"Victor it's raining outside," Yuuri laughed from the kitchen. "There is no birdsong as far as I'm aware."

"It's sunny somewhere though," Victor was far too cheerful.

"Why are you so damn happy today?" Yuri asked, his voice slightly muffled due to the cat on his face. He didn't want to upset her but he needed her off.

"Can I not be happy for no reason," Yuri didn't need to look to know the Victor dramatically had one hand over his heart in a look of mock hurt.

"No," both Yuri and Yuuri said at the exact same time.

"You wound me, both of you do," Victor sighed. "I guess I just can't enjoy anything."

Yuri managed to coax Empress down from his head so that he could see, which resulted in her hissing at him and running off. He then shifted his legs until Makkachin got off as well. "What is going on with you?" He turned to Victor, who was sitting down with a dopey grin on his face.

"Absolutely nothing," Victor answered. "It's just a great day and my beautiful fiancé is making breakfast and morning practice is cancelled."

"He woke up like this," Yuuri said. "He won't tell me what's got him so excited. I just let it be."

"Sounds like a good idea," Yuri grumbled, rolling over.

"Are you feeling better this morning?" Yuuri asked him. "You were really upset last night. You went to bed at eight."

Well that did explain why he woke up at one, Yuri thought. Normally he didn't wake up like that. "Yeah, I feel a little better. Its just hard yknow."

"Well, if it gets to be too much all you have to do is tell us and one of us will take you home," Victor smiled at him.

"We don't want you to be overwhelmed with everything. You've had a lot happen to you, we understand," Yuuri added. "If you really can't stand it, it's okay if you don't compete in the Grand Prix this season. There's still Worlds."

Yuri was stunned that they even suggested that, he hadn't considered it at all. He thought about it for half a second before snorting. "No way in hell. You're gonna have to fight me this season, I don't intend to lose."

"Typical Yurio," Victor laughed. "A competitive spirit."

"We don't want you to stress yourself too much," Yuuri said. "Yakov is okay if you decide to not do the Grand Prix. It's fine."

"No," Yuri shook his head. "I want to do it, this isn't some competition thing, though I do intend upon beating you. I have my reasons. I will compete. I want to."

"Good," he could hear a smile in Yuuri's voice. "That's what we want to hear. We want you doing the thing you love because it's what you want to do, not because you feel forced."

Yuri smiled to himself a bit. It really did sound like they wanted him around. These were the statements he normally couldn't believe but he was trying to. "Thanks I guess."

"Time to start gearing up for hell week, only a few practices before that," Victor told him.

Yuri groaned at the reminder. "Ugh, Yakov and Lilia are going to kill me next week during practice."

"What is hell week exactly?" Yuuri asked.

"The worst practices ever," Victor answered. "A week before competition. Skate America starts the 21st and we'll arrive the 16th, so hell week will start the 10th. So next Monday. Poor poor Yuri."

"At least I'll get some of a break between my competitions," Yuri said. "Yours are back to back."

"I'm a five time world champion, I think I'll do just fine," Victor said.

"You're an old man is what you are," Yuri rolled his eyes. The familiarity of the banter brought a smile to his face again.

"I thought we weren't arriving until the 20th?" Yuuri asked as he came into the living room, balancing three bowls of food. "You said something about that this morning."

"Oh right," Victor grinned. "Yuuri and I aren't flying with the rest of you, he needs to train for Skate Canada so we'll get there right before your event."

Yuri nodded, not saying anything because he had already stuffed his mouth full of food. "You better not miss," he said after swallowing. "You gotta see what you'll be up against. I won once, I plan on doing so again."

"We know," Yuuri smiled at him. "We would be surprised if you planned on anything else."

The three of them ate in silence for the most part really only speaking when Makkachin started begging for a bite. Not that they gave him anything. Okay maybe just one small bite, that wouldn't hurt him.

After eating Yuri decided to go into the guest room for a while to think away from everybody. He just wanted a little bit of silence. He ended up watching a couple episodes of a show he has gotten into and before long someone was knocking at his door.

"It's time to head to practice, grab your skates, lets go," he heard Yuuri say.

He glanced at the time and realized that it was indeed time to go. It only took him a couple minutes to change into his practice clothes and grab his skates and he was by the front door in no time.

"Hey, you aren't ready," he looked at Yuuri accusingly. The older man was not dressed in practice clothes nor were his skates anywhere in site. "I thought it was time to go."

"Oh right," Yuuri laughed softly. "I'm not coming to practice today. I have some appointments to take care of, I have to work on some legal stuff regarding me being here and I have an appointment with the doctor."

"You didn't tell me you had to go to the doctor," Victor appeared from around the corner looking slightly worried. "Are you sick?"

Yuuri laughed loudly at that. "Because you get like this about it," he leaned up and kissed Victor on the cheek. "I'm not sick, it's routine blood work and a physical."

"Better not be too physical," Victor grumbled.

"Ew gross," Yuri wrinkled his face. "I am a poor innocent child and you are destroying that." All three of them laughed at that.

"Okay, well we all have places to be," Yuuri pushed him and Victor towards the door. "You do not need to be late again. Oh and here," he pressed a paper bag into Yuri's hand. "No mustard."

Yuri was glad about that. He had never actually told Yuuri that he hated mustard so the fact that he had taken note of that the day before meant a lot to him. The day just seemed like it would be a good day.

And it was for the most part. Practice went smoothly and he didn't have to spend a few extra hours at the rink like he had the day before. He was exhausted by the time he and Victor got back nonetheless.

He found himself yawning through dinner and then through the movie they put on, some rom-com this time. He couldn't fall asleep during it though, he had a question floating around in his head and he needed it answered.

Eventually he stood up and turned of the tv much to Victor's complaint. But once the other two saw the look on his face they shut right up.

"Yuri?" Yuuri asked. "Everything okay?"

"I think so," he answered. "I've gotta ask something."

"What is it?" Victor asked softly, resting a hand on Yuri's shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

"Do you..." Yuri cut himself off and bit his tongue. It was such a stupid question. He took a deep breath. "Do you guys really want me here?"

"Of course we do," Yuuri said immediately. "We love having you here, it would do boring without you."

Victor nodded in agreement. "You make this place home."

"Okay," Yuri whispered, so quietly he doubted they heard him. He walked to the guest room without saying another word and crawled into bed. "Thank you," he said to nobody before drifting off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really was just a filler chapter except for the backstory part. The poor thing, he needs all the support ever. This was probably rather dull at the end. 
> 
> I hope all you lovely people enjoyed this. It'll be more interesting next chapter (probably at least).


	7. Of Plane Rides and More Plane Rides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is much longer than it was supposed to be so I had to end it before it got massive

Days seemed to blur together as they always tended to do right before a competition. One day he ran through every possible jump in his programs until he could hardly left might his legs to walk. Another day he did so many spins that the colors of the rink all seemed to merge into one. 

Yuri ran through his programs over and over until he could have skated them in his sleep. He skated with music, he skated without music. He practically lived on the ice. 

Even when he was back at Victor's he found himself humming his program music and moving as if he were dancing. And each night he fell into bed and slept the sleep of the dead, only to wake up and do it all over again the next morning. 

"Are you sure you have everything?" Yuuri asked for must have been the hundredth time. 

"Yes," Yuri insisted, moving to zip his suitcase. "You act as if I haven't been packing for myself for years."

"We just want to make sure you don't forget anything," Victor said. 

"That's rich coming from you," Yuri rolled his eyes. "I swear you do it on purpose."

"Hush you two," Yuuri shushed them. "Do you your jacket, your skates, all your chargers," Yuri nodded at every item. "Your toothbrush?"

"Ugh, I hate you," he stomped off to grab that. "Stop nagging so much, it's not like you have to take care of me or anything. I do that just fine."

"He's so grown up," Victor said in mock pride. "They grow up so fast."

"It's not like I'm your kid or anything," Yuri huffed. Seriously, with the way those two acted one would think he was a child and not a sixteen year old who was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. 

"Yeah well we can still look after you," Yuuri smiled at him. "I packed you a bag with some snacks for the airplane," he held it out to him and Yuri took it with a smile. "You better get out there soon, sounds like they're getting impatient." 

"They can wait a bit longer," Yuri said in response to the horn going off yet again. "You two had better make it to Chicago in time for my performance. You need to see just what you're up against."

"We see you at practice everyday Yuri, we know," Victor said. "You should get out there now. Yakov doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Yuri snorted at that. "Says you," he laughed. "I'm leaving now. You better ensure that neighbor of yours takes good care of my cat."

He let himself outside with a small wave to the other two and pulled his bag down to the car where Yakov and the others were waiting. 

"Took you long enough," Mila said as she scooted over so he could have the seat next to her. 

"Yuuri and Victor wanted to run through a checklist of everything I needed," he grumbled. "They're so nagging."

"I'd say that man is a godsend," Yakov said, singing praise of Yuuri. "Every since he came here, you actually listen in practice. Both you and Victor. He's a miracle worker."

"They're such dads is what they are," Georgi laughed. "Foolishly in love. Just wait until they have a kid. If you think they're bad with you, it'll be even worse then."

"You know, you kind of are their kid in a way," Mila teased. 

"Shut up you hag," Yuri turned away and ignored uthem the rest of the way to the airport. Just because considered Victor and Yuuri to be his family of sorts didn't mean they thought the same of him. And anyway, they were his competition, he couldn't be too close to his rivals. 

Yuri was grumpy the whole way through airport security. He had stayed up the night before in an attempt to make his jet lag as little as possible. With the nine hour time difference they would be landing in Chicago just a couple hours after the time they left St. Petersburg. He hated time zones. 

"I can't believe there isn't a damn straight through flight," Yuri complained as they found their way to the gate for the first flight of the trip. "This is ridiculous."

"At least it's only one layover and not two," Georgi said. "Remember last year for Skate Canada, that was even more flying time."

"Ugh," Yuri groaned. "I don't care. I just want to be there already. I will not think twice about yelling at any reporter who gets between me and my sleep."

"Yes you will Yuri," Yakov shot him a look. 

"Nasty words are unbecoming of you young man," Lilia shared Yakov's frown. "You will be polite."

"I will not make any promises for sleep deprived jet lagged me," Yuri shook his head. "That is over twelve hours from now. I am not condemning future me with my current words. He will thank me."

"Such a drama queen, Yuri," Mila laughed. "I mean king. Drama king," she corrected herself immediately. 

"Drama queen is just fine, it sounds weird the other way," he was thankful for it though. "Lilia trained me as a prima ballerina," he said. "I think drama queen comes along with the role."

"You've been a little drama queen since you first showed up," Georgi laughed. "It didn't just suddenly appear with the role Yuri."

"Says you! 'Oh Anya, Anya. My queen, I love you, come back,'" Yuri dramatically mimicked Georgi's program from last season. "You're the real drama queen here."

"Now, now boys," Mila hopped in. "I think we can all agree that Victor is the biggest drama queen out of all of us."

They all nodded there agreement. "'He was the most beautiful man I've ever seen,'" Georgi did a fairly accurate representation of Victor's voice. 

"Watch video, go to Japan, coach pretty Japanese boy," Mila listed off. "Kiss him on live international television, have him move in, adopt teenager together."

"Hey, just because I live with them doesn't make me part of his dramatics," Yuri whined. 

They continued to laugh and bring up other ridiculous things that had happened to the various people at their rink. Though it did feel a bit strange without Victor and Yuuri there as well. 

The time passed quickly and soon they boarded their first flight. It was the shorter of the two by far and Yuri opted to stay awake for it instead of napping like his rinkmates and coaches had chose to do.

He had insisted upon a window seat and was enjoying that immensely. It was only a two hour flight and he spent the majority of it staring out the window watching the sky change colors. 

He made sure to elbow everyone awake when the descent announcement was made, possibly a little bit harsher than what was necessary to wake them. They had a very short layover and he did t want to risk missing the second flight. 

"Next time can we get tickets that give us more than half an hour to connect?" Mila whined as they rushed through the busy airport. It was obvious that she was just as tired as Yuri was. 

"This is what we got," Yakov stated. He had somehow been saddled with most of the bags and was still managing to move faster than anyone else even with the extra weight. "I know you have it in you to pick up your feet, so hurry up."

By the time they arrived at their gate, the boarding process had just begun. "Take your own bags," Yakov shoved everyone's bags back at them until he was left with just his bag and a large suit bag the Yuri knew contained their costumes for performance. There was only one time that the costumes had ever been put in checked luggage, it was during his Junior days with some airline that only allowed one carry on per person. The bag had been delayed and they didn't get their costumes until the day performances started. Yuri could still hear Yakov's screams.

He glanced at his ticket after it was scanned and made his way to his seat. Thankfully it was first class so he'd be able to lean it all the way back during the flight. Surprisingly neither Georgi nor Mila took the seat next to him, they were sitting next to each other a couple rows behind him, as were Yakov and Lilia. 

It was odd for the seat next to him to not be filled by one of his rinkmates, it was almost disappointing in a way. As much as he antagonized them he did appreciate there presence, at least most of the time. 

Victor's absence was even more notable than it had been the season before, it was Victor who Yuri most often found himself sat next to on plane rides such as this one. Despite how much he acted in the contrary to it, he had always looked up to the older man. Especially when he first arrived in St. Petersburg and Victor was the only one who took him seriously. 

Yuri thought it'd be best to make himself comfortable before the plane took of so he set about doing so. He placed his travel pillow—tiger print, of course—behind his neck and buckled his seatbelt overtop the fluffy blanket he had kidnapped from Victor and Yuuri. It had been quite a struggle to get that into his backpack. 

There was a built in screen that he could watch movies on but he didn't feel like it at the moment so he put his headphones in and closed his eyes, deciding to nap for a bit if he could. The boarding process was going to take a while anyway. It was a big plane, it even had two stories of seats. He found the hustle and bustle of people down the aisle to mildly soothing—though he supposed he would've found a heavy metal concert soothing at the moment, he was exhausted—and he soon drifted into a light slumber. 

A tapping on his shoulder woke him up. "Go away Victor I'm sleeping," he mumbled, still half asleep. 

The tapping continued and Yuri cracked open his eyes to find that the seat next to him had indeed been filled. A rather small framed bespectacled person was seated next to him. "Do you want food?" They asked gesturing towards the flight attendant who was almost at their row. 

Yuri yawned and stretched as much as he could. "Do you know what's being served?" He asked. 

The person blinked, taking a few seconds before formulating a response. "Chicken and potato."

"Yeah sure," Yuri yawned again, that didn't sound too bad, he was getting kind of hungry anyway. 

When the flight attendant made it to their row, Yuri quickly told her what he wanted and asked for some apple juice to go with it. The person next to him took a bit longer but ended up getting the same thing as him. 

"The chicken," the person pointed at Yuri's food that he had taken a bite of already. "Is it good?"

Yuri swallowed his mouthful. "It's airplane food, so it's not the best but it's doable. I much prefer it the way the people I live with make it, they're rather good at cooking. This is also probably much less healthy than what Yuuri makes," he found himself babbling, which he was a bit apt to when he was overly tired. 

The person blinked a few times and stared at him. "Could you repeat?" They asked. "Slower." It was then that Yuri realized they were speaking in heavily accented Russian. 

"English?" He asked, switching to the other language. The person nodded enthusiastically and smiled. "I said the chicken is okay, not as good as what I'm used to though."

"Better than what I've had recently," the person said in an accent he couldn't quite place. 

"One of the people I live with's family runs an inn and he learned how to cook there," Yuri said. "So I'm pretty lucky."

"Are you traveling alone?" The person asked. 

Yuri shook his head. "No, my coaches are a few rows back and so are the other people I'm traveling with. The two I live with are coming out in a few days, they have training."

"Coaches, training," the person mumbled to themself, their eyes taking in Yuri's appearance and his warm up jacket. "Ah," they seemed to connect the pieces. "You are that ice skater aren't you?"

"I'm not sure which ice skater you mean," Yuri said. "But yes, I'm an ice skater. I have a competition in Chicago this weekend."

"I don't follow ice skating much," they shrugged. "That's more my sisters thing. You're not the really famous one, too young to be him."

"I'm famous enough," he said, his voice more biting than he intended. "Er, that is to say I won a gold medal at the Grand Prix Final last year and set a world record for my free skate."

"I've seen pictures of you before, I guess ice skating is a bigger deal there than what I'm used to," they said. "You're the one all those articles were about a month or so ago? It started with a 'y' I think. Uh, Yeve? Yura?"

"It's Yuri," he said quickly. "My name is Yuri."

"Nice to meet you," they smiled. "I am..." they trailed off and glanced around as if looking for somebody. "Uh, I'm Evan," they lowered their voice considerably before saying that. 

"That's a nice name," Yuri said. 

Evan's cheeks flushed at the compliment and they nodded their thanks. "Thanks, uh yours too. It's nice. Yuri that is, it's a cool name, I've never met someone called Yuri is it a common name here?"

"Not the most common," he answered. "One of the people I live with also has the name, he spells it differently though. He's from Japan."

"That makes sense," Evan nodded. "Different character systems and everything. Pretty fascinating if you ask me, but then again all languages are. The Romance languages are fairly simple, it helps that the alphabet is the same though," the cut themself off. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"Don't worry about it," Yuri waved his hand. "I could do the same with figure skating."

"Well then go ahead," Evan encouraged, looking almost excited to hear it. 

"Oh, okay," Yuri was surprised. "Well it's a lot harder than most people think it is."

"It looks pretty hard to me," Evan said. "Ice only been a few times but I can't stay up for long."

"I've been skating since I was a little gi-boy," Yuri smiled, thinking about the ice. "Jumps are especially fun. I can only land two quads, the salchow is definitely a favorite of mine. Physically I really shouldn't be able to jump quads but I have a special pair of skates that helps a lot and I've been training forever for it."

"Why should you not be able to?" Evan asked, sounded genuinely curious. 

Yuri blanched slightly, he hadn't meant to let that slip out. "Er, my body is still developing," he mumbled. "I'm a bit young to be competing in the division I'm in." 

"You must be really good then," Evan smiled. 

The two of them spoke for a while longer before Yuri found his eyes growing heavy and fell back asleep. It was hard to stay awake with the soft quality of Evan's voice and the consistent humming of the plane engines. Yuri found both to be rather soothing and couldn't fight back sleep any longer. 

When he did wake up again he was rather disoriented. A quick glance out the window told him where he was and he slowly gained his bearings. He checked the time on his phone and groaned softly, there were still over six hours left on the plane. 

He tried to fall back asleep but couldn't manage it so he decided to go use the lavatory as a means to stretch his legs a bit. Luckily there wasn't much of a line so he didn't have to interact with anyone while he was up there. Upon returning to his seat he was careful not to wake Evan who was currently crumpled in on themself in a position that couldn't possibly be very comfortable. 

Despite his efforts not to, it seemed his actions woke Evan up anyway. The small person blinked at him blearily before falling straight back asleep, this time slumped at an angle that soon landed their head on Yuri's shoulder. 

Yuri stiffened at that, he wasn't used to large amounts of physical contact from anyone besides Victor or Yuuri and he hardly knew this person. He found himself slowly scooting away towards the window but that didn't do much. Normally he would just shove the person off, especially if it was Victor, but he didn't want to be rude. He eventually decided it was useless and it didn't seem like Evan was going to wake up anytime soon, so he just sighed and leaned back in his seat again, this time managing to fall asleep. 

"Aw, look at the little kitten," the words were muffled but after he heard a camera shutter, Yuri jerked awake, accidentally elbowing Evan in the process. Apparently he had leaned into Evan as he was sleeping. He glanced up to find Mila grinning down at him evilly. 

"What did you do you hag?" He asked, the threatening tone in his voice softened by a yawn. 

"Oh nothing," Mila clutched her phone to her chest. 

"Delete everything," he hissed, knowing she had taken pictures of him. 

"But you look so sweet in," she grinned. "All cuddled up with her and everything," she gestured to Evan who appeared to be nodding off again. 

"We weren't cuddling," Yuri glared at her. "And their name is Evan," he heavily emphasized the pronoun and the name. 

Mila nodded slightly. "Still cute."

It was then that Evan muttered something that neither of them could understand. Mila and Yuri shared a confused look and Mila shrugged before walking back to her seat. Evan mumbled a few more words and Yuri was certain that they weren't English or Russian. 

"Uh, what did you say?" He asked, his brow furrowing in concentration. 

A few more garbled syllables fell out of Evans mouth before settling into something Yuri could recognize. "Ah, sorry," Evan looked embarrassed. Both by the fact that they were still leaned into Yuri and by their speaking. "So many languages in here." They tapped the side of their head. 

"How many?" Yuri was intrigued by that statement. 

"Um...." Evan paused to count. "I can read and write in about twenty something. I can speak fifteen fluently and I'm polishing up my verbiage in others. Russian is my most recent for speaking in."

Yuri didn't even notice his jaw drop. "You can understand more than twenty languages," he said in hushed awe. "That is impressive."

"I'm a polyglot," Evan shrugged. "It's no big deal. There's someone out there who can speak sixty. I'm good at learning them."

"No big deal?" Yuri asked. "And I'm a pretty average figure skater."

"No," Evan shook their head. "You're rather amazing, your Agape last season was mind blowing and the fact you can perform quad jumps even though you're not..." Evan stopped talking immediately. 

"Wait? I thought you didn't follow figure skating," Yuri frowned. 

"I, uh, shit," Evan mumbled mixing in a couple other languages. "I may have looked you up a month or so ago when you were in all those different articles. I saw the pictures and what everyone was saying and then I just watched some of your routines."

"Oh," Yuri didn't know what to think. "The articles, you believed them?"

"I don't take articles at face value," Evan told him. "But it seemed plausible so I looked you up as well as that other skater, I'm assuming that's one of the people you live with. I was intrigued."

"I don't see why," he shifted his shoulders slightly. They both realized at that motion that they were still leaning against each other. They moved with a stiff laugh. 

"You know, up until the 20th century gender and sex didn't mean the same thing," they said. "But today they're treated as if they are the same. Though one is biological and the other is societal and cultural. Things have changed a lot."

"Doesn't explain why you'd be so intrigued," he crossed his arms over his chest, in an attempt to block his curves from view. 

"Isn't that obvious?" They asked. "I don't know how I could make this more obvious."

Something about the familiarity of those words caused Yuri's eyes to widen. It reminded him of the conversation he had with Yuuri so long ago. Without meaning to he flicked his eyes over to Evan and took in their appearance. Slightly soft face, narrow shoulders, a hint of curves stuck out from their slight frame. "Oh," he said. "Are you?" He made a random motion with his hands instead of saying it outloud. 

"I'm not a girl if that's what you're asking," Evan shook their head. "Not exactly a boy either though. I'm more of a boy though. But really I'm just me."

"Makes sense I suppose," Yuri nodded. "I'm a boy yknow. All boy."

"All boy," they pointed at him. "Part boy," they pointed at themself and then laughed. 

Yuri's stomach growled slightly and a quick check to the time told him there were still five hours left on the flight. He had only slept for an hour and it seemed like he had missed out on being served a snack during that time. "I'm starving," he grumbled. 

"I think we get another meal in a couple hours," Evan said. "But I'm pretty hungry too."

Yuri found the now slightly crushed bag Yuuri had given him before he left and grinned at its contents. "Yes, he made me piroshki," he grabbed and but into it smiling even wider when he found it was a katsudon piroshki. He swallowed and turned to Evan. "I've got quite a few of these, you want one?"

"That's piroshki right?" Evan looked at it skeptically. "What's in it?"

"Ah, this ones special," Yuri smiled. "It's a katsudon piroshki, my grandfather invented the recipe to combine two of my favorite foods. He must have given it to Yuuri. It has rice and egg and pork cutlet it in."

Evans face fell a bit at that. "Oh, I can't have it then, but thanks for offering."

"Why not?" Yuri asked, taking another bite.

"Ah, my mom is Jewish and my dad is Islamic," Evan said. "And well I don't ascribe to either belief, pork is a double no. I'm pretty bad at following the dietary stuff most of the time but since I'll be seeing them I need to get into the habit."

Yuri nodded in understanding and looked through the bag once more. "I have some that are filled with beef, is that okay?"

"Yes, that's perfect," Evan smiled and accepted the piroshki Yuri held out to them. They mumbled something under their breath before taking a bite. "This is delicious."

"Vkusno in Russian," Yuri smiled back as he ate his meal. 

"Vkusno," Evan echoed, the sound a bit muffled by the food in their mouth. 

The two fell into companionable silence and Yuri was grateful for that. Most of the passengers on the plane seemed to be either watching movies or sleeping but he didn't want to do either. They were supposed to arrive at the hotel in the evening and all he wanted was to fall into bed there and sleep for as long as he possibly could. 

"What brings you to Chicago?" He found himself asking Evan. "Actually why were you in Russia anyway?"

"I graduated from high school really early on, so I'm at a college there for now. It's the best way to polish up my Russian and I'm working on Estonian, Latvian, and Lithuanian as well since those countries are fairly close," Evan shrugged as if that wasn't an extremely impressive thing to be doing. "I have family near Chicago, I'm going back for a funeral."

"The college thing is impressive," Yuri nodded. "I do online school with the heaviest focus during the off season. It's just easier to work my schooling in around my practice than the other way around. I'm sorry to here about the funeral, is it someone you were close to?"

"It was my great-grandmother," they said. "I'm not that upset about it. She was really old and thought she was in England, she's never been to England. She always mistook me for her son but he died when he was my age from medical complications. I was never close to her."

"I never knew any of my great-grandparents," he told Evan. "I mostly raised by my dedushka, that's my grandpa in case you don't know the word. He's a great man, he took me in when I was little and he does everything for me."

"Sounds like a good person," Evan smiled. "I grew up with my parents and four siblings, it's kinda hectic when we all get together. My dad is the head of some bank, I think it's a pretty big deal. My mom is a scientist at a university. They always pushed me to do my best and were overjoyed when they discovered my ability to learn languages. It's a cultural hodgepodge, but it's home. I'm glad to go back for a while."

Yuri glanced away from the wistful expression forming on Evan's face. Even though he had cut ties with his parents long ago, he was still overcome by jealousy when he heard about someone who had good parents. Usually he could manage to quell it. 

"How nice," he was certain he sounded bitter. "I was an only child. It was just my dedushka and me back in Moscow along with my cat. Now it's Victor, Yuuri, and me plus the cat and Victor's spoiled dog."

"My dad has this massive fish tank in his study, it's amazing," they grinned, thankfully not commenting on Yuri's tone. "It takes up an entire wall. We had a cat when I was really little and we have some horses at my uncles barn. We basically have everything."

"You must really love animals then," Yuri noted. "I like cats the best but I stuck living with a bunch of sappy old dog people," he made a face at that. 

"It sounds to me like you care about them," Evan said, their voice almost teasing. "This Victor and Yuuri? Hmm, Yuri and Yuuri, that must get confusing."

"It's annoying," he grumbled. "He stole my name. He's useless really. It's a waste having two Yuris in the same division. All he does is steal Victor's attention."

"He won the World competition last season didn't he?" Evan asked. "That doesn't sound useless."

"Don't remind me," Yuri groaned. "They're so insufferable about that. Waving around their gold medals like they're nothing. Talking about weddings and the like. I hate it. Sappy old fools."

"They're engaged?" They looked slightly confused. 

"Yes technically they are," Yuri nodded. "Victor said he'd marry Yuuri once he got a gold medal but now with both of them competing this season they're really busy."

"It sounds like you make a good little family," Evan yawned, their head starting to nod again. "Hmm, I'm tired."

"They aren't my family," Yuri said to himself. The plane suddenly seemed much quieter and smaller. Talking had helped pass some of the time but it was still over four hours out from the plane landing. 

He didn't feel like he would be able to fall back asleep at the moment so he hooked his headphones into the screen monitor and picked a movie to watch. It was a superhero movie of sorts and he couldn't really keep track of the plot line. He thought there were aliens at some point but then some of them turned out to be other heroes and it was all just a mess in his opinion. He found himself nodding off part of the way through and fell into a somewhat restless slumber. 

Somehow he actually managed to stay asleep this time and only woke up when the intercom came on with the announcement they were starting their descent into Chicago. He sluggishly went about shoving his blanket and pillow back into his bag and blearily blinked around the cabin. 

Most of the passengers were either still asleep or were packing up like he was. Evan was in the former of the two groups and Yuri prodded them in the side until they jerked awake. "The planes landing," Yuri mumbled in explanation.

"Oh," Evan sat up and got their bag put back together for the most part, leaving out only a notebook and pen. "Long flights are terrible."

"Agreed," Yuri nodded, he felt okay for the meantime but was certain once he stood up he would be miserably exhausted. 

"Well it was nice meeting you," Evan smiled. "Much more interesting to sit next to you than some grandmother aged old lady."

"You were less annoying than Victor," Yuri said with a shrug. "But yeah, it was nice meeting you too."

Evan flushed slightly and held out their notebook to him. "I'm sorry but my sister would skin me if she found out I met you and didn't get an autograph. Could you sign this please?" They looked embarrassed to be asking that. 

"No problem," Yuri accepted the notebook with none of his usual scorn, he scribbled out a short message and then signed his name followed by a simple sketch of a tigers face. "I can do one better and take a selfie if you'd like."

"Yeah, sure," the poor person squeaked, obviously not expecting that. They opened up their phone and let Yuri take it. 

He held it out and snapped a couple pictures of the two of them. "Now your sister won't have any doubts," he stated. "Oh, and if you ever want to practice your Russian, my number and my social media accounts are written down for you."

Evan spluttered out what Yuri assumed was a thank you in a language he couldn't place and turned away from him after that. 

The plane touched down smoothly and soon Yuri joined the shuffling line of half asleep passengers as they trudged out into the airport. He met up with Yakov and everyone else once they got off the gangway. 

His head was heavy and his eyes kept drooping as they made their way towards customs. "This is stupid," Yuri grumbled. "I'm hungry and tired."

"We all are," Mila frowned, obviously exhausted from the flight. "Stop whining."

"Would you all just be quiet?" Yakov hushed them as he continued to usher them through the line at customs. "If you could not make a scene we'll get through much faster which means all of us will get to sleep sooner."

Getting through customs was less of a hassle than it sometimes was and soon they were at baggage claim waiting for their luggage to come around. It felt like it took forever, but Yuri soon had his bag in hand and they were ready to depart to the hotel. 

The cab ride was bumpy and Yuri's body felt heavier and heavier by the second. He just wanted to fall into bed right away. He was only half paying attention to what Yakov was saying as they arrived. 

"Yuri?" Yakov asked. "Did you listen to anything I just said?"

"Huh?" Yuri looked around, realizing they were standing in front of the hotel. He was so tired during the ride he hadn't even realized they had made it. 

"Foolish boy," Yakov frowned. "We're going to check in and put our bags away. Then we're all meeting back in the lobby and eating in the hotel restaurant. You have tomorrow to yourself so rest up." He then pulled out his phone and seemed to send off a few texts. 

"You check me in," Yuri grumbled, much preferring to not interact with the falsely cheerful desk employees. 

He wandered over towards the elevators to wait and found himself quickly surrounded by a slew of reporters who must have gotten wind that they had arrived. News traveled fast in those circles. He was caught off guard by their appearance, he had been avoiding any and all reporters since the articles that came out back in August but he couldn't see an escape nearby.

It took a few seconds for the buzz of questions to be realized as such, he suddenly stood up straight and started paying attention. He'd have to talk his way through this one. 

"Yuri, what's your theme this season? What's your inspiration?"

That one was easy. "Humility. I want to do something that would come as a surprise after last season."

"How confident are you in your ability to win this event? Your competition has greatly improved since last season but your performance seems about the same level."

Yuri thought for a second. "That gold medal might as well have my name on it. I've been practicing hard and even with their improvements I'm still better."

"How does living with Victor and Yuuri affect your performances and routines?"

This type of question was typical now that he stayed with them. He was pretty sure the reporters were more interested in getting stories about the other two. "I would say it doesn't have much affect. I stay with them, we all go to practice together, we're all competitors."

"There have been recent allegations about your gender Yuri, do you have anything to say about that?"

That question seemed to open a floodgate with all the other reporters. 

"Are the rumors true?"  
"Are you really Yeva Plisetskaya, or is the name merely a coincidence?"  
"What are the legal implications of your transition. Are you even allowed to skate in this division?"

The questions continued to spew forth from the reporters and Yuri's already very thin patience gave out on him. "No fucking comment," he shoved his way forward to get away from them. "It is none of your fucking business what I am or what I'm not. This is completely irrelevant to the upcoming competition, how about you do your jobs and report on that. I am sixteen fucking years old, leave me the hell alone," he practically screamed. 

The room fell silent as he snatched his room key from Yakov. "I'll be eating in my room, thank you very much," he snarled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this serves very little to advance the plot it is actually mildly necessary. I started writing the airplane scene and Evan just happened. They're my salute to my tendency to somehow attract all the lgbt people ever (I'm a magnet I swear), so I kinda gave Yuri that too. They serve a few purposes actually. I've been on 14 or so flights in the past year. You meet some interesting people on planes, so Evan came in part from that. 
> 
> I will stop rambling now or I won't stop. I hope you enjoyed this subjectively somewhat boring chapter. It will get more interesting soon


	8. Of Phone Calls and Lunch Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri swears a lot. There's quite a bit of dysphoria I suppose and some breakdowns.

Yuri all but threw his suitcase at the wall of his room, biting his lip to keep himself from screaming. He tasted the telltale coppery tinge of blood against his tongue and knew he would regret that the next day.

It was times like this when he wished he had someone there to comfort him—and by someone he meant Yuuri or Victor, he just wouldn't admit that. The media was the media and he knew he couldn't change that, but he wished they could leave him alone for a second. He could already see the articles outlining his outburst that would likely pop up like daisies overnight.

It wasn't fair. He had spent the majority of his life working towards being able to perform in these competitions. He sold his soul to the devil year after year and he knew it was simply a matter of time before he never got it back. He literally had to fight his body to get it to do what it did. And after all that work, the reporters come and have the audacity to question his legitimacy.

He should be exhausted but now he was enraged and he had no way to get that anger out. His short temper was well known by just about everyone who had ever interacted with him for substantial amounts of time. Allowing his anger to steep would only result in an even more disastrous outburst.

There was nobody around that he could go to and let his anger out. He didn't want to bother Mila or Georgi, Yakov would listen but he wouldn't understand and would give advice that just made him feel worse. The only one of his competitors who he even really knew was Guang-Hong and the Chinese boy had yet to arrive.

Yuri needed somebody to rant to and he needed it fast. A quick glance at the the time had him cussing, it was way to early in St. Petersburg to call Yuuri and Victor, it was rather early in Almaty too so even though he knew Otabek would listen calling his friend was out of the question too.

He found himself frantically scrolling through his contacts and dismissing all of them for some reason or another. Most of them didn't know he was trans for certain or would be terrible at handling it, quite a few others just happened to be in a time zone that was in the middle of the night. He read through the list time and time again. Normally he would just text Yuuri about what was bothering him but right now he needed to talk to somebody and he needed them to talk back. He was desperate.

Eventually he found his finger hovering over the call button of the only contact he deemed passable. It was somebody who already knew he was trans and didn't care, someone who at least had a basic understanding of it, and there wasn't a large time difference so he wouldn't be waking anyone up. But he still hesitated, typically he wouldn't be caught dead calling them. Honestly it was a contact he wasn't even sure why he had in the first place, but sometimes drastic times call for drastic measures. He shakily pressed the call button, taking a few breaths to steady himself as it rung.

It seemed to ring forever, Yuri was just about to give up on it when a voice sounded on the other end of the line. "Hello," the annoyingly chipper Canadian said. "I never expected to have you call me. Do you miss me? We'll see each other soon enough, the Trophée de France is coming up soon."

"JJ...don't," Yuri winced at how pathetic he sounded. "You were the only person who I wouldn't be waking up."

"Yuri," JJ's tone was devoid of any arrogance for once. "Did something happen?"

"Yes," Yuri hissed. "And I'm extremely upset okay," he sounded defensive, as if JJ was demanding information from him. "I need to talk and I need someone to listen. When this is over, it never happened. Okay?"

"Okay," JJ sounded stunned. "I can listen."

That was all the permission Yuri needed to let everything out. Despite going off like this quite frequently, he had a lot pent up. Enough that he was talking to Jean-fucking-Jacques Leroy. He felt like screaming. "I don't get why it's so damn important to those vultures of reporters. They're here to report on the competition not my personal life. They think it's perfectly appropriate to question my validity in competing.

"Me who has dedicated my life to this sport. They parade about calling me that name and giving me that look and they dare suggest that I'm not even legal to compete. They're a bunch of damn fools who shouldn't be allowed to ask those questions.

"Why do they care so much about what's in my pants? Why is that suddenly the only thing defining me? Last season it was skating prodigy, the Russian fairy, the ice tiger. All these titles that made me sound important. And now it's reduced to 'oh yeah, that's Yuri, he has a vagina.' As if that's what important.

"They might as well hang a sign above my head pointing and laughing. Oh how ridiculous for the little girl to want to compete against these men. She won't last a day. Pathetic and weak. So frail, so pitiful. All I want to do is skate and win. I want that to be the focus so why is it suddenly not," Yuri was cut off by JJ speaking up.

"You aren't a girl," JJ told him in a well practiced manner that suggested he said those words often. "And you aren't weak either."

Yuri took a moment to catch his breath. "But that's the thing JJ. They don't give a flying fuck about what I am or who I am. I'm a story handed to them on a silver platter and everyone wants to take a bite before the delicacy is gone.

"I'm an exotic creature they've never had a chance to see and now it's like I was put into a zoo. They don't ask anything of depth either. It's all superficial on the surface bullshit that is meaningless.

"If they care so much why don't they ask how hard I work. Why don't they ask me to recant the hours upon hours I spent forcing my betrayal of a body to rotate four times in the air. All those bruises and scrapes and almost broken bones. Why don't they ask what it felt like to medal in one of the biggest competitions there is.

"Because I would answer them. I'd tell them I worked myself sick and couldn't skate for a week but I landed a quad after spending grueling practice sessions on it. And I felt like a fucking King on top of that podium, an emperor. Somebody who is actually worth it," his voice broke at that and he fell silent.

JJ didn't say anything right away, but he could hear his breathing on the other end of the line still. "Everybody fights their own battle to get to the top," he was pensive. "Some people just have to fight harder than others. I respect that Yuri. I respect you."

Yuri didn't know what to say to that so he asked the first question that came to mind. "What was your battle?"

"I'm surprised you asked," JJ said, the surprise clearly showing in his voice. "I was born premature. Extremely premature, had I been born even a couple days sooner I wouldn't have been viable. Didn't even weigh a kilogram. They told my parents when I was born I likely wouldn't survive a week. Then they bumped it to a month, then three years, then ten. But I survived, every time they set a limit I exceeded it. Children born as early as I was have less than a one in ten chance of not having some disability, usually something very serious. But here I am."

"Oh," Yuri hadn't expected that at all. "Wow." He fell silent for a few seconds. "Thanks for letting me rant to you."

"It was no bother at all," JJ said, he sounded like he meant it too. "Seriously, you're a fighter Yuri, you got this far some silly reporters aren't going to pull you down. I'll see you in France."

"I'll kick your ass," Yuri replied, hanging the phone up at that.

He felt better in an odd way after getting all that off his chest, though he would probably regret it in a few days once he wasn't as exhausted. Now that he wasn't so angry he could feel the exhaustion setting in. And as if suddenly reminded of its existence, his stomach let out a growl.

Yuri knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake long enough to order room service so he pulled his crumpled snack bag out of his backpack. However Yuuri had packed it had managed to keep the piroshki cold which was quite impressive considering how long it had been since he was handed the bag, ice packs worked wonders.

He pulled the last piroshki out of the bag and ate it, not even caring about the crumbs he got everywhere. He clawed around in his suitcase for his pajamas and clumsily changed into them, almost managing to trip himself three times in the process. After that it was a quick few steps to the bed which he promptly collapsed onto. He fell asleep within mere seconds of lying down, the jet lag paired with his emotional exhaustion worked as a great catalyst for sleep.

It did not work so well for staying asleep, Yuri discovered at about three in the morning. His body was confused as to the time and since it was daytime in St. Petersburg, he was awake. He did not want to be awake.

Attempting to fall back asleep proved to be useless. No matter how tired he was, his traitor of a body was convinced it was noon and he should be up and running. He hated his body a little bit extra at the moment.

After staring at the ceiling for what felt like ages he decided to scroll his instagram feed, it usually had cute cat pictures. Cute cat pictures never betrayed him.

His feed was sadly empty of any cute cat pictures. The world was definitely out to get him. He was bitter about this.

He switched to his text messages with a sigh. He had several most of which were from Yuuri and Victor. He clicked them open and read:

**Yuuri** : Yakov told us what happened with the press. That was uncalled for even for reporters.   
**Yuuri** : Are you doing okay now? Do you need someone to rant to?  
 **Yuri** : I'm okay. Thank you though. I already got it off my chest

Yuuri's message was just what Yuri would expect him to say. The Japanese man was naturally caring and offered him support quite frequently. Victor's texts were another story:

**Victor** : yurioooo, the press are terrible, don't worry about them  
 **Victor** :what is ur favorite color?  
 **Victor** : it's bkue right   
**Victor** : blue*  
 **Victor** : or is it green?  
 **Victor** :  ur cat misses u   
**Victor** : [cat photo]  
 **Yuri** : I know the press are awful  
 **Yuri** : I like both blue and green  
 **Yuri** : The cutest pet in your house

Victor had an unfortunate tendency to type like an overexcited child at times and it definitely showed. Yuri didn't understand how Yuuri could put up with the man half the time but he figured it was something to do with love. He was stubbornly determined to never fall in love if it meant turning into a sappy old geezer like those two.

He thought about texting Otabek, but his friend would be in the middle of practice and he didn't want to interrupt that. There was very little he could do and since sleep seemed to be eluding him, he decided to play a game on his phone until he could fall asleep again.

That turned out to be quite a hefty amount of time. The sun was streaming in through his unclouded curtains by the time his eyelids began to droop once again. Despite the sunlight, he did manage to fall into a fitful sleep riddled with bad dreams.

\--  
 _Yuri found himself standing in the middle of an ice rink surrounded by his fellow competitors. It seemed everyone he had ever competed against was there._

_They were skating graceful circles around him in what seemed to be an intricate dance. He moved to join them but found that his skates were blocks of cement rooting him in place._

_Disjunct laughter filled the air._

_"Ha, look at the freak."_

_"Can't even skate right."_

_"Who does she think she is."_

_"This is our rink. There's no place for someone like her."_

_Yuri couldn't tell who was speaking, the words seemed to ring out from everywhere at once. He tried to cry out to say that he belonged there but the blocks got heavier and the ring of skaters closed in around him. It was a prison._

_Laughter and voices broke out once more, this time from clear sources._

_"What makes you think you're good enough," Victor._

_"If you were a real boy you would've perfected that jump ages ago," Yakov._

_"At least I had the decency to fix my body," Yuuri._

_"You'll never be a real boy princess," JJ._

_"Why would anyone want to be friends with a worthless skater like you," Otabek._

_"Yuri's a girl, Yuri's a girl, Yuri's a girl," Yuuko's triplets._

_"We don't want you here. Leave and never come back," Yuuri and Victor._

_"Just quit already, you're a waste of my time," Yakov._

_The spiraling mass of skaters moved faster and faster, halving the space Yuri had to occupy. They encroached more and more until there wasn't even a recognizable person in there._

_"You should've listened Yeva. You had this coming. Nobody will ever want you now." His mother appeared in the masses, a torch in hand._

_The rink caught fire._   
\--

Yuri jerked awake with a gasp, shuddering and sweating. The details of the dream quickly slipped from his memory but the feelings remained. He curled up on himself and let out a low whimper. He was too tired for this, too awake for this. Too everything for this.

He wasn't sure if it was him panicking or if it was dysphoria, but he felt terrible. He was frozen in the hunched over position in the middle of a hotel bed. For all he cared he could stay there for the rest of forever. There was nothing outside of this little bubble of him and his emotions.

Without someone there to calm him down, it took ages for it to work it's way out of his system. And even then he still didn't feel all that great. What he needed more than anything at the moment was to not be alone. He was so so alone and he couldn't fix that. He couldn't reach for his phone and contact someone. He couldn't move from his position and find somebody. He couldn't think clearly.

A pain in his chest told him that he hadn't been taking deep enough breaths and the flow of oxygen into his body was enough to clear his head slightly. Almost as quickly as the emotions had risen up, they crashed down. Leaving him numb.

He felt out of sync with reality, partially because of his jet lag and partially because of something else. He didn't exist, that had to be it. If he was real he wouldn't feel so awful all the time. He would be happier and in control of himself. But he wasn't happy and he lacked control. Obviously he wasn't real.

It was late afternoon by the time he managed to get dressed and leave his room, taking extra care to assure that his binder was on snugly before hand. He remembered Yakov had said that he had the day to himself and he intended on keeping it just to himself.

As he walked to the hotel restaurant to get himself food, he shot a withering glare to anybody who even looked like they could be a reporter. Needless to say, he was given a large berth.

Jet lag served to make him clumsy and he found himself bumping into walls and dropping things quite frequently. It was as if his body had forgotten how to respond to his mind without excessive urging. "Oh fuck this," he whined to himself after dropping his spoon into his soup for the fourth time. He must have looked to have the fine motor skills of a toddler to a bystander.

He angrily snatched the bowl up in both his hands and brought it his mouth to drink from, there wasn't anybody there to yell at him about etiquette and even if there was, he was far too tired to care.

There were a few days left before the competition and those would be spent practicing and preparing for that. He would have to acquaint himself with the ice rink and mentally prepare for the competition. Anxiety wasn't something he struggled with massively, but he was prone to the occasional panic near the start of his routines. That wasn't what worried him though.

This would be his first time coming face to face with competitors since his secret had come out. And that thought terrified him. What if they no longer took him seriously? What if the judges were biased and his score would suffer because of them.

There were so many what ifs floating around his head. All he wanted was to put on his skates and clear his head on the ice, but he was strictly prohibited from doing so the day after a long flight. Yakov's rules, no skating until the jet lag recedes a bit.

Normally he would go explore parts of the city or eat dinner with some of the other skaters. He didn't know his way around though and hadn't bothered to look into anything around the hotel. He didn't even know anybody who lived in the area who could give him suggestions on what to do.

Yuri sighed and decided he would stay in his hotel room the rest of the day. Mila and Georgi were had texted him to ask if he wanted to tag along with them but he had turned the offer down, they always nagged him and he wasn't in the mood for that.

As he moped back to his room—he would not admit that it was moping, it most definitely was moping—he felt his shoulder slam into somebody.

"Oh sorry," a voice he seemed to recognize said. He looked to see who it was and it clicked into place.

"I'd tell you to watch where you're going, but that was my fault," he told the boy. "Sorry Guang-Hong."

"It's okay," Guang-Hong seemed surprised by his apology. Yuri hadn't interacted with him much since their junior days, but a few years ago they had competed against each other and took home gold and silver, so it's not like they were strangers. "You seem different since we last spoke."

"I guess," he said. He was though. Calmer at least, less likely to snap at somebody without warning. "You got taller," he said distastefully. Guang-Hong had been one of the only male skaters who was actually shorter than him. Now they stood about eye to eye.

"Yeah I had a bit of a growth spurt this year," Guang-Hong grimaced. "Really messed up my jumps but I'm used to it now. Don't grow ever, it's the worst."

"I don't need to worry about getting much taller," Yuri sounded almost bitter about it. "No magical growth spurt in my future."

"That gives you an advantage, you won't have to relearn everything," Guang-Hong smiled. He was always amicable, maybe a bit shy at times, but he had never been rude to Yuri. It made sense that he would find a way to twist something Yuri hated so much about himself into something good.

"I heard you managed a quad salchow," Yuri changed the topic slightly. "That's my favorite jump."

"Yeah," Guang-Hong nodded. "I could never clear the ice high enough to do it until this season. I'm a bit rocky but I can land it just fine."

"Well don't get too confident," Yuri's tone was teasing. "I don't plan on a repeat of events from the last time we competed." The last competition they were both in was the JGPF a couple seasons before. Guang-Hong had taken gold and Yuri silver.

Guang-Hong merely smiled at that, he wasn't the type of person to take that to heart. "I'm here to do my best. You should be too. Your theme is humility this season right?"

Yuri nodded. Yakov had given him an extensive list detailing every skater this season, their program themes, and their strengths and weaknesses as skaters. Though he had read through it he couldn't quite remember everything. "Yeah, that is my theme. Yours is...." he trailed off, he had forgotten.

"Peace," Guang-Hong supplied. "The opposite of my theme last year. My coach thought it would beneficial for me to skate to this theme."

"I look forward to seeing it," Yuri told him, he meant it too. "I'm still winning though."

"Typical Yuri," Guang-Hong laughed. "Well, Id best be heading to my room to sleep, I only got here a few hours ago, I'm pretty tired from the plane ride."

"Jet lag is a bitch," Yuri nodded. "I'll see you around."

Yuri briefly reconsidered his decision to stay inside all day but when the only mental picture he could get of Chicago was of an oddly shaped shiny silver statue, he thought it'd be best to not go outside. He also wanted to avoid running into any reporters or Yuri's Angels that might be lurking around.

American daytime television turned out to be just as ridiculous as he would've thought. The channel offering were slim and the only thing he could find that wasn't some informercial or cartoon for babies was some medical show. One of the ones where the plot revolved around which doctor the nurses were sleeping with in increasingly stranger places in the hospital. He was fairly certain that was a health code violation in more than one aspect, but it was something he could watch. It kept his mind off everything else at least.

He was almost disappointed when his stomach grumbled, indicating he needed food. He had just gotten invested and needed to know the fate of the poor nurse who was the most recent character to fall ill. He stomach complained loudly once again and he switched the tv off.

His shoulders and sternum were beginning to get a bit sore and he realized he was still wearing his binder. He had meant to take it off after coming back to his room but had forgotten. Normally he tried not to wear it the days preceding a competition, opting instead to hide his chest under a sweatshirt or jacket, layers were most definitely his friend. He hadn't risked going out without it on with all the reporters milling about however.

Taking it off was a much easier process than when he had first gotten it a bit over a year prior. His chest was small enough that a high compression sports bra hid most of it unless someone was looking really hard, and his loose shirts usually covered that anyway. The binder was better than a sports bra any day, even though he had gotten himself stuck in it the first few times he wore it.

It was just about time for him to order a new one anyway, this one was basically worn out and wasn't nearly as effective as it had been. But since it wasn't so tight anymore he felt justified wearing it longer and during more intensive activities, though he dare not skate with it during practice now that everyone at the rink knew. They wouldn't so much as let him set a foot on the ice if they suspected he was wearing it.

Yuuri was at least understanding about it and had explained how it worked to the others when they rose their curiosities. Yuri was thankful for that, he was pretty sure he couldn't get through one question about it before tearing somebody's head off. As far as anyone needed to be concerned, it was merely and undershirt that he preferred to wear.

The slight pressure against his chest as he breathed was a comfort to him, it was a reassuring presence of sorts. Wearing it made him feel extra confident in himself because catching a glimpse of himself with a flat chest did wonders for his self image. It was just how he felt he should look. It was perfect.

He frowned at his reflection once he had switched the binder for a sports bra. While it was leagues above a regular bra, it still made him dysphoric. He zipped his jacket up immediately. If he couldn't see it, it wasn't there, or at least that's what him told himself.

The hotel restaurant was abuzz with activity. There were several skaters he recognized milling about as well as coaches and family members. It was a familiar sight, one that he had been acquainted with at a young age.

There was no hostility between competitors, that was usually saved for the competition itself. Outside of competing, they respected each other for the most part. Of course there were some rivalries, but off the ice it wasn't seen as important as it was on the ice.

He was used to being in the center of it all, him being one of the rising stars of the sport and all. But it was as if everyone had unanimously decided to leave him be. There was an air of caution coming off of everyone around him, they were walking on eggshells and he knew it.

If he would so much as confirm or deny the rumors, the silence would shatter. But it was the uncertainty about it all that set people on edge. No one wanted to be the one responsible for lighting the fuse that set him off. He didn't blame them.

Still, it was strange to be sitting on the outskirts of it all. His fellow competitors barely even acknowledging him. There were Guang-Hong and Leo who at some point had become fast friends and were practically sharing a chair. They were surrounded by their coaches and some people who appeared to friends or relatives of Leo's.

There was another American skater who was making his senior debut this season, Yuri couldn't remember his name or much about him at all. He assumed he wasn't much of a threat. There was a French skater who he had competed against at Skate Canada the year prior but he didn't know anything about him either. And there was also Seung Gil Lee, the stoic Korean skater. He knew very a little about him despite having competed against him the year before.

It was then that Yuri realized how bad he was at socializing with the other skaters. There was a camaraderie of sorts between all the skaters, but he seemed like he was left out of it. He thought it was probably because he had always kept to himself and his teammates at prior competitions, terrified that someone would discover his secret.

He was less isolated than ever before but at the same time he was entirely alone. It didn't matter that he had the full support of some people if they weren't there right then. Everyone looked to be having such a good time, they were laughing and joking with each other in the way that close friends tended to do. A group of people who all got together because of their love for the same sport. He wanted to join them.

He didn't.

He went back to his room instead and crawled into bed, not even caring that it was only seven.  Staying in the restaurant would have only ensured his misery. He decided to check his phone which he had mostly ignored and then go to bed.

**Victor** : he's making me pack already   
**Victor** : [photo]

The picture was a selfie of Victor pouting with a half packed bag and Yuuri in the background with a scolding expression. Yuri laughed, Victor was very much the type to put packing off to the absolute last second and undoubtedly forget something. Yuuri was the type to pack a week in advance and run through a checklist time and time again. He had tried to make Yuri do that before he left.

**Victor** : practice hard these couple days, we can't wait to see you compete. don't forget to polish up that one step sequence toward the end of your FS  
 **Yuri** : you'd forget Yuuri if you weren't so lovesick  
 **Yuri** : you better be ready old man, I'll kick your ass. with my skates on

It was typical of Victor to text like that. Half the time in ridiculous amounts of abbreviations and the rest of the time in full sentences. He supposed it had to do with the old sap's terrible attention span. Yuri preferred insulting to people to thanking them, so he wouldn't directly say anything about the advice Victor had given him. Even though he was right.

Surprisingly that was the only text message he had on his phone. He would've expected something from Yuuri checking up on him or from his grandfather or Otabek since they tried to keep in contact with him. But there was nothing else there. It didn't strike him as too odd though, Yuuri and Otabek were both competing at Skate Canada the next week and would have been busy at practice all week, and his grandfather much preferred writing letters or calling to text messages.

Since there was nothing much left for him to do, he put his phone down and closed his eyes. It didn't take long for him to succumb to sleep.

When his blades touched the ice early to next morning Yuri felt like laughing joyfully. Which he did albeit silently. The ice cleared his head and provided him with a comfort he had been accustomed to for many years now. He knew the ice as well as he knew himself, probably better than he knew himself.

The sound his blades made as he glided around the rink in a lazy circle was music to his ears. It was blissful. "Get to work boy!" Yakov barked, cutting through Yuri's thoughts.

He realized he was supposed to have finished warming up minutes ago. "I'm on it," Yuri barked back, letting his legs pull him into a step sequence.

Practice was a familiar fiend. A deep burn he felt in his limbs, it was better than flying. To him it was flying. The ice was cold and unforgiving, he knew what he had to do on it. And if he messed up he was met by its familiarity. It was unforgiving but not cruel.

Yuri had been one of the first skaters to take to the rink and it slowly filled up with more and more of the competitors. There was a mutual respect between skaters, an unspoken agreement of who had what space. At least to him there was.

"Yuuuuri, you need to loosen up," it was Mila who skated up behind him. "Yakov let us go on lunch break five minutes ago, what are you still doing out here?"

"I need to get this spin down. Something is throwing me off balance," he grumbled. It was a simple camel spin, it shouldn't be giving him difficulty.

"Well you're never gonna get it down when you're hungry," she teased, taking note of the sounds his stomach was making.

He glared at it. Hunger always betrayed him at times like this. "Let me give it one more go," he shoved her to the side, not hard enough that she would fall.

"Fine, I'll just have Georgi pick you something up," she singsonged, knowing very well that Georgi always picked something that Yuri didn't like.

"Damn hag," Yuri muttered under his breath but he followed her off the ice and changed into his street shoes. Regular shoes felt wrong after wearing skates for so long, they were too solid and not tight enough.

"We're going to lunch," Mila announced. "You spent all yesterday hiding in your room instead of enjoying the city. Yakov had something come up and is going to be on the phone for a while. He wants us back at four."

Yuri checked the time and frowned. That was is more than three hours. "Ugh, we shouldn't be taking time off like this now. I have a competition to win."

"Ease up a little," she lightly punched him in the shoulder before slinging her arm around him. He tried to worm away but that proved to be useless. "You don't have to be so tense, everyone here is on your side," she lowered her voice for that last bit.

He was grateful for that, not that he'd admit it. "Where are we going to eat anyway?"

"I found the most wonderful cafe yesterday," she grinned. "It's lovely. I invited some other skaters too. Sara and Guang-Hong and Leo. You get along with them fine right?"

"You miserable hag," he frowned. "What if I don't want to eat with them?"

"Too bad," she was way too cheerful about it. He strongly suspected this was Victor's influence on her.

He sulked the entire way to the cafe. As much as he had wanted to be more included in what the other skaters were doing, he did not enjoy having something dumped on him so suddenly.

He and Mila were the first to arrive but the others weren't too far behind, he was surprised to not see Sara's brother trailing behind her as he seemed to always do. "Where's Michele?" He asked her.

"Oh, didn't you hear?" Sara asked. "He's staying it Italy to rest his leg. He got into a minor rink accident and banged up his ankle pretty badly. He's out for the Grand Prix series but hoping to compete in Nationals and Worlds."

"Oh, I haven't been paying much attention to the news recently," Yuri nodded, he felt kinda bad that he hadn't known that though. Injuries like that could be career ending and he hoped it wouldn't prove to be for Michele, he knew if it were him who was injured he'd hate it.

"I don't blame you," Sara laughed softly. "He's going to be just fine but he was upset about not getting to come with me. Something about him not being able to defend me from unworthy men. I don't think he'd mind me hanging out with you though."

Yuri grit his teeth at that statement, of course Michele wouldn't see him as a threat to his beloved sister, Yuri wasn't even a real boy. He felt the telltale prickle of tears forming in the corner of his eyes and he huffed loudly. "Yeah and why's that?" He half shouted, turning to anger to try and stop the tears. A few slid down his face anyway which he angrily wiped away.

"Oh no, no," Sara immediately realized how that had come across. "Not like that Yuri. It's because you're only sixteen. He's not worried about someone who's seven years younger than me."

"Oh," he felt stupid now. He was so quick to jump to conclusions and cry. It made him weak. "That makes sense."

"Oh sorry we're late, I got lost and my phone died and Leo here was no help," Guang-Hong and Leo's sudden appearance made for a welcome topic change. "He's the American here, he shouldn't be getting distracted by the Americanness of this place."

The two of them took a seat and everybody started thumbing through a menu. "Don't worry about it Ji," Mila said. "We haven't been here very long."

Silence fell over the group as they perused the menu and placed their orders. Once their menus had been taken away they fell back into easy conversation.

"Guang-Hong here is hilarious when jet lagged," Leo said with a slight smirk on his face, causing the Chinese skater to flush.

"Am not," Guang-Hong insisted.

"You called your ice skates knife shoes," Leo raised an eyebrow.

"They are shoes with knives on them," Guang-Hong defended with a pout.

"Oh that's nothing," Mila butted in with an evil grin. "Yuri is terrible when jet lagged."

"Don't you dare," Yuri glared at her, wishing he could kill her with a look.

"He tried to steal an alley cat a couple years ago after a really long plane ride," Mila continued anyway. "He kept insisting that the 'fluffy meow meow' needed him and that it was his. He kept trying to shove it into his jacket."

"I was eleven," Yuri grumbled. "That was five years ago."

"It was an ugly cat," Mila shot him a look. He stuck his tongue out like the mature sixteen year old that he was.

"Fluffy meow meow," Guang-Hong laughed. "That's pretty funny."

"Says the one who called orange juice tree milk," Leo teased.

"I hate you," Guang-Hong buries his face in his hands. The whole table was laughing at that point.

"That's not what you said earlier," Leo elbowed him.

"Ooh, what did he say?" Sara grinned, she seemed to be enjoying this.

"He said.." Leo was cut off by Guang-Hong slapping his hand over his mouth. "He shaid," he tried to speak anyway. A second later Guang-Hong yelped and pulled his hand away.

"You bit me!" The Chinese skater stared at him in a combination of horror and if Yuri was seeing it correctly, affection.

"And?" Leo challenged. "Let me continue. He said and I quote 'Your face it's like a statue like from that museum. Is it real? I gotta touch it. Wow you're a warm statue Leo. Good statue.'"

Yuri didn't think Guang-Hong could turn more red if he tried. "Shut up," the boy sounded miserable. "I hate you."

"Ah, young love," Sara cooed. "Don't forget to invite me to the wedding."

"Oh we're not dating," Leo was very matter of fact about it. Yuri could've sworn he heard Leo lean towards Guang-Hong with a whispered 'yet' though.

Any comment on that was lost in the sudden arrival of their food. Yuri had ordered a chicken salad that came with some berries and a vinaigrette. It looked good.

Most everyone else had also gotten a salad or a sandwich. Except for Leo who had some monstrosity placed in front of him. "What the hell is that?" Yuri pointed an accusing finger at the mass of whatever it was sitting in front of the skater.

"It's pizza," Leo grinned. "Chicago deep dish. I had it the last time I was in this area, it's wonderful."

"Why the fuck is there sauce on top of the cheese?!" Yuri was horrified at the sight. It seemed like a good way to ruin an otherwise good meal.

"That's just how they make it," Leo shrugged, taking a bite of the thing.

"Leo, I'm Italian," Sara shook her head. "I have to agree with Yuri."

"It looks fine to me," Mila smiled. "Though I wouldn't dare eat that this close to competition."

"I'll eat healthier starting tomorrow," Leo shrugged. "I've got a good metabolism, this delicious lunch won't do me any harm," he shot a withering look at everyone else around the table.

Yuri found himself laughing as he ate his chicken salad. He hadn't enjoyed himself this much around competitors in probably ever. Mila was right to drag him to this, he'd have to find some way to thank her later. Of course without ever saying the words directly.

Time seemed to fly by since he was enjoying himself and soon enough they were all headed away from the restaurant. Guang-Hong and Sara back to the hotel; and he, Mila, and Leo to the rink.

He found himself smiling as he walked. Feeling much lighter than he had before. He was truly looking forward to the competition now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The competition will actually take place in the next chapter, I promise. I wanted to explore Yuri's relationships with some of the other skaters this chapter. He's matured a bit and is less snappy towards everyone now. Chicago deep dish pizza is digusting I'm sorry, Yuri agrees with me. 
> 
> I live off of feedback. Seriously, it makes me happy which makes me write faster. Hopefully you enjoyed this actually quite long chapter.


	9. Of Routines and Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some skating in here, not super detailed but still. Also dysphoria, bit of a breakdown, talk of neglectful parents

The day of the Short Program, Yuri woke up in a cold sweat. He vaguely remembered having a dream of sorts that had caused this. Recently he had been plagued with nightmares, but he wasn't going to let that deter him. 

He got up and begin to do his morning stretches, a pre-competition routine that was as familiar as breathing. He turned his music up as loud as possible and let it wash away his jitters. This was his religion. The pull of muscles as he stretched, the harsh sounds of music chasing away his thoughts. 

There was no room for anything else. His fears melted away. He didn't fear failure, he didn't fear the interviews that were sure to come. He became one with himself, his mind and body agreeing for once. 

This was the feeling he got on the ice, this pure joy that was unblemishable. This was why he pushed his body past all its limitations. The few minutes where it was just him and the ice and the music. At least that's how it was ideally. 

He was calm. He held onto that feeling as he changed into his warmup clothes and threw his jacket on overtop. It wouldn't be too much longer before he put on his costume and took to the ice. 

He took in a deep breath and held it, his eyes squeezed shut. The pressure built in his lungs until he had to release it and take in more air. 

The hotel restaurant was much quieter than one would expect from a place with no empty seats, he thought as he made his way to the table his coach and rinkmates were at. Victor and Yuuri were there too, looking a bit bleary eyed from travel, they had only gotten in a few hours prior. 

Yuri sat and graced the others with a small smile. This was routine too, he didn't speak to them until entering the rink. His silence preserved the calm in his chest all the better, it was what kept him from panicking. 

He took the fruit cup that was silently proffered and began to eat it slowly. Eating anything too heavy or greasy before a competition messed with his performance. Plain fruit and vegetables were his only fuel the morning of a competition. He'd eat a light snack in a few hours that consisted of almonds and pistachios, the protein and healthy fats good for him. Heavier meals were reserved for dinner. It was as much a part of the routine as anything else. 

Across the table from him, Mila seemed about ready to burst. She handled competitions much differently than he did. She did her mornings loudly, boisterous laughter often bubbling up from her. It was a strange dynamic when both of them were at the same event like now. Yuri didn't know how Yakov handled it, each of his students acted differently about it. 

Each moment seemed to happen in perfect detail. Yuri always found that he noticed the most about people while in this state of mind. He saw that Yuuri and Victor were trying their hardest to stay awake. He saw that Leo, who was at an adjacent table, was a nervous talker and had babbling to his coach as long as he had been sitting. He saw that the French skater whose name he still couldn't remember looked to be nervously waiting for something, a phone call was Yuri's guess by the way the mans eyes constantly glanced at his phone. 

He noticed the way his ribs expanded as he breathed, and he felt the beating of his heart. He almost wanted to relish the feeling because he knew it would fade away as soon as he entered the rink, but it wasn't a feeling to hold onto. It was an in the moment thing that he had grown to appreciate over his years of competing. 

The silence of his thoughts ceased upon entering the rink. Despite having been skating in the very place the past few days, it was an entirely new environment now. It was charged with an energy bordering upon magic. The air was so thick with emotion it almost felt like one should be choking. Anticipation, hope, fear, readiness. It was a combination of feelings that was so specific to competitions like these. 

"Yuri," it was Yakov, speaking to him for the first time of the day. "Your wave is almost set to take to the ice, its time to get ready."

Time had slipped by so quickly, he thought he still had hours before this. It was only half an hour now. Wearing the costume to see if it fit and wearing it for competition were entirely different. 

It took him a minute to track down Georgi but once he did he drug him back to the dressing room with him. "A simple braid, nothing fancy, from here to here," he pointed from the top left of his head to the bottom right. "Kinda loose but not in my face."

"So picky," Georgi teased. "No, will you braid my hair for me. No please."

"Fine," Yuri grumbled. "Please."

Yuri closed his eyes as his hair was done. It was a wonderful feeling to have someone braid it back for him and Georgi was surprisingly good at it, more so than most people he knew. All too soon his hair was done and the time for his warmup was approaching. 

He was alone in the dressing room, another part of his routine that everyone knew not to encroach upon. He only ever took two and a half minutes to himself, no more no less. 

For the first time of the day he looked at himself in the mirror. It was satisfying to see. He looked like an entirely different person. His softer features that normally he despised played into his image as a skater. His height, the slight feminine curve to his body. Oddly enough the only time he didn't hate it was the times when it was shown off the most. 

He ran his hands down the costume, taking in the texture of the fabrics, noting the places were there were decorations. He checked to see if he had put the compressive shirt on properly underneath the outer layer of his costume. He had. His chest was barely visible at all, easily passable as a man's. 

Once again he took in a deep breath and held it. The two and a half minutes ended. He stepped out of the dressing room and made his way over to the side of the rink where Yakov and Lilia stood. Lilia held out his skates for him, they had been polished since he had worn them the day before. "Beautiful Yuri," she smiled at him. 

Lacing up his skates was second nature and soon enough they were both on and he was ready to take to the ice for his warmup. "Don't over stress yourself," Yakov told him. "Work through your spins and step sequences, your jumps are solid, you've done well with those. You only have a few minutes out there so make sure you warmup properly."

"I know, I know," Yuri sounded dismissive, really he was just impatient to step onto the ice. He slipped his blade guards off and pressed them into Yakov's hand before setting foot on the rink. 

Instantly the noise of the crowd faded away and it was just him and the ice. He was vaguely aware of the other skaters as he skated a few figure eights to accustom himself to the movements for the day. He ran through the spine he had struggled with the past few days and by the time the tone sounded, indicating the warmup was over, his muscles felt amply stretched. 

Yuri had drawn third for starting positions. The American who was debuting had drawn first and the French skater second. He stood between Yakov and Lilia as the first skater took to the ice. He didn't pay much attention. 

There were very few times that he had panicked before taking to the ice and this was not one of them. It was merely nervousness that was affecting him now. Pre competition jitters that would melt away when he skated to his starting position. 

"Breath, Yuri," it was Lilia, looking down at him with a slight air of worry. His body reacted before his mind caught what she had said. 

"I'm ready for this," he voice was devoid of its usual arrogance. In the background he could hear cheering, the first skater must have finished. 

"You've worked hard," Yakov's voice was gruff. "This is just a qualifier, don't push yourself too hard today. We'll know what to work on before France in a few days. Don't do anything drastic out there."

Yuri nodded. The crowd was cheering again which meant it was time for him to step onto the ice. Once again he slipped off his skate guards and handed them to Yakov. He stood just on the edge of the rink, he still had a minute before he had to take center stage. Lilia and Yakov looked at him with pride. 

"Go out there and show them who you are," Lilia smiled. "Make us proud boy."

"Davai!" He heard a shout that likely came from Victor or Yuuri. 

Time stood still as he skated out to the center of the rink and took his starting position. Then the first notes of his music sounded and he was off. 

Conveying the emotions was the hardest part for him. He was not a humble person and he didn't know how to show it on the ice. His skating started out angry, something that he could convey easily. 

The music was harsh and he threw himself into his first jump in what could only be described as an aggressive motion. Too aggressive, he almost had to touch a hand to the ice to catch himself. 

Humility, humility, humility. It was just out of reach. He skated for it, reaching out both physically and mentally to catch this idea. His camel spin was unbalanced just like it had been in practice. He couldn't understand that. 

The music grew calmer but he couldn't take the aggressiveness out of his performance. This wasn't humility. He fumbled for the idea once again. Lilia had told him that his pride was his humility, he wasn't feeling prideful though. He was feeling a sharp emptiness and for the first time all he wanted was for the program to end. 

This wasn't like him at all. His triple flip turned into a single and he completely butchered the step sequence that came after it. He hadn't skated like this in years, it was terrible. 

The rest of the program was grueling to get through and he completely gave up on trying to emulate humility. All his focus was on not messing up. He managed to land his final jump, a quad salchow, albeit a bit shakily. It was just a step sequence and a spin and then he was done. 

He felt nothing as he dropped into his ending position, him kneeling on the ice and holding his arms outstretched in front of him. The applause from the audience felt lackluster. He picked up one cat plush that had been thrown to him and left the ice as soon as possible. 

"I don't fucking know," he spat as soon as he saw Yakov. The coach was always prone to jumping into a lecture after a performance. He didn't want to hear it just yet. 

Lilia was the one to guide him to the kiss and cry, keeping a hand on his back the whole way there. Yuri didn't feel he deserved to sit and watch for his score. 

He hadn't messed up that badly in years, there was no way he would score well. He was angry and numb. Even the numbers flashing on the screen weren't enough to make him feel anything: 80.61. He had barely even broken 80.

He didn't care that he was currently in first, it didn't matter that he has outperformed the first two skaters. He was Yuri Plisetsky, he didn't mess up like this. This wasn't like him at all. 

He didn't hear the words Yakov and Lilia were speaking. He didn't see the worried looks Victor and Yuuri were sprouting. He didn't catch how the audience cheered for him anyway. 

Somehow he managed to take off his skates and dump them with the pile of stuff belong to his coach. He managed to pull his warmup outfit on overtop his costume. And he walked away. He walked past Victor and Yuuri, he walked past the hoards of reporters itching to ask him questions, he walked past the screening area where most skaters watched the others perform. 

Yuri found himself in a mostly empty hallway. It was quiet there and he found a bench in a secluded corner that made for the perfect place to sit. "What did I do?" He whispered to himself. "I'm a failure, stupid stupid girl."

He felt a weight settle on the bench next to him, he didn't bother looking to see who it was. It was Yuuri, it was always Yuuri. "Go away Katsudon," he voice was weak. 

"I'm not Yuuri," it was Victor. Yuri looked up in surprise. He was so used to Yuuri being the one to find him in moments like these. 

"What do you want?" Yuri tried to make his tone threatening but it probably sounded pathetic. 

"I don't want anything Yuri," for once Victor didn't seem to have his usual air about him that he did at competitions. No overly friendly persona, no criticism bubbling from his lips. 

"Then why are you here?" His voice was hollow. 

"We're worried about you," Victor told him. "You aren't acting like your usual self," Yuri frowned at him but Victor continued. "You have your routine for competitions just like everybody else dies, but you weren't the same today. It was like you weren't there."

"But I was," he insisted. The words were enough to make him think about it though. And Victor was right, he had felt none of his usual excitement. 

"We both know that's not true," Victor set his hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"

"I don't know, I don't fucking know," Yuri almost started laughing. "It's what everyone expects, isn't it? I'm not a real boy, I'm a girl playing dress up. What does a silly girl like me think she's doing skating against real men."

Victor thought for a moment. "Okay," he said. "Then you're a girl. Guess we better talk to Yakov about it. You'll have to withdraw from the free skate tomorrow, I mean those men are pretty intimidating. I don't think a girl is up for it," Yuri stared at him with his mouth half agape. "We can get you a new wardrobe when we're all back at my house. I'm sure you'd prefer some more feminine clothing now. Oh, and we'll have to re-choreograph your performances. It's probably not to late for you to skate Ladies at Nationals and Worlds. That is if they don't object to having a champion male figure skater there," Victor emphasized the last sentence. 

Yuri merely blinked at him a few times. "Fuck you," there was no venom in his voice. "That's not what I meant."

"I don't see how else I'm supposed to interpret 'I'm a girl,'" Victor argued. "You are just as valid of a man as I am, as Yuuri is, as anyone else out there who is a man is. It doesn't matter if people think less of you because of it, that doesn't change who you are inside."

"It's easy for you to say," Yuri grumbled. "Youre Victor fucking Nikiforov. Everybody loves you no matter what."

"Well you're a lot stronger than I ever was about this Yuri," Victor patted his shoulder. "Don't let them change who you are, you'll regret it."

"You're everyone's favorite, you the figure skater to beat," Yuri said. "The press love you, the fans love you. I'm not anything like you. This isn't something you've ever dealt with."

Victor sighed. "I know you think that about me, but it isn't true. You were pretty young when it was at its worst. It was shortly after you started training under Yakov, you were such a cute little boy back then," Yuri glared at him to get on with it. "My sense of gender identity didn't really match with what I assumed it was supposed to be."

"And..." Yuri urged him to continue. He was interested now. 

"Well I explored it a lot," Victor smiled. "I had my long hair for years, I painted my nails, my costumes were meant to be feminine and masculine. That's how I felt, not one or the other but both." Yuri's eyes widened. "Nobody directly says anything about it when you bring so much fame to the country. They don't want to mess with an Olympic hopeful or a world champion. But there were mutters and stares and articles defiling my reputation by less reputable reporters. The ones who can't be bothered to care."

"Well what happened with it?" Yuri asked. "Did you realize that you were more comfortable being masculine all the time?"

"No," Victor shook his head. "I didn't have anyone's support through it, I didn't have anyone to talk to. I decided I was being ridiculous and that everyone probably felt the way I did. But it wasn't appropriate. So I cut my hair short, I stop painting my nails, my costumes became all masculine. It was easier that way. I haven't really thought much about recently anyway."

Yuri glanced to make sure nobody was around them. "Have you ever told anyone this?"

"Actually you're the first person I've told," Victor grinned his trademark smile. "I didn't think it was super important but I thought you might benefit from hearing it."

"Yuuri is going to kill you," he stated. "You're a dead man-woman...shit, what do I call you?"

"Man is fine," Victor merely laughed. "But why would he kill me?"

"Oh my god Victor," Yuri couldn't believe him. "You live with not one but two transgender people. Your fiancé is trans, I'm trans," he repeated the point for emphasis. "And you didn't think to tell us that you might not be cis?"

"It's never been important to me," Victor shrugged. "So why make a big deal out of it."

Yuri groaned as his idiocy. "Well my gender identity is a big deal to me. Yuuri's gender identity is a big deal to him. I don't know how you identify or if you still feel the way you did when you were younger, but Yuuri will be hurt to know you didn't tell him. He'll think you don't trust him."

"You're right," Victor adopted a guilty look. "I'll let him know eventually."

"Now could you go away and let me mope in my failure alone," Yuri's voice grew bitter. Talking to Victor had been a welcome distraction but he still felt terrible. 

"I followed you so we could talk about you, not me," Victor stated. "And we're going to finish the conversation."

"What's there left to talk about," Yuri sighed in defeat. "I'm not a girl but I'm a pathetic excuse for a boy. I did terrible out there today, it's such a waste."

"One bad performance doesn't make you a bad skater," Victor told him. "You're still shook up from everything that happened in the media. You did what you expected them to want from you. You let them get into your head and make you doubt your own ability."

"That's what they do Victor," he huffed. "I can't ignore it. Everybody expects me to be different now even though I'm the same person. If I perform the same they won't like it."

"They don't want to see you perform worse, that just makes them think that you really don't belong here when you do," Victor said. "Think of the reporters as a whiny bunch of toddlers demanding something from you and saying mean things when you don't provide. Are you gonna be affected by a toddler?"

"You have a point," Yuri frowned. "They did get to me." He felt terrible. He had let something so stupid as a few comments mess with his mind. "I'm useless at this, I want to go home," he whined, sounding pathetically close to a child. 

"I'll take you back to the hotel," Victor's voice was soft and his hand on Yuri's shoulder was a welcome comfort. "I'll text Yakov and let him know that we're going back for the day. I'll tell Yuuri to meet us there. It'll be just like at my place."

Yuri nodded weakly and let Victor help him up from the bench. He paid no attention to the path they took to get back to the hotel. If someone were to ask him his they did, he wouldn't have been able to answer. 

He felt gross and heavy, this wasn't part of his routine. This wasn't part of anything at all. He didn't have his room key with him to get back inside, but apparently Victor had procured it from Lilia prior to finding him, he also had Yuri's phone. 

"Are you going to talk?" Victor asked once they were safely in Yuri's room. 

Yuri didn't bother to look up, he just shook his head. It was much to quiet in the room. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, why it was beating so quickly he did not know. 

He was still wearing his costume, normally he would've changed out of it and watched the other performances throughout the day. If he could bring himself to feel anything he would feel guilty about missing out on watching Leo and Guang-Hong's programs. He missed Mila's too. 

Yakov would likely be upset with him for taking off before he could give his criticism. And more so for him running off still in costume. He had definitely missed an interview he was supposed to go to. There were so many responsibilities he skipped out on, it would be hell once he ran into his coach again. 

"He's been sitting like that for an hour now," the sound was muffled but it was definitely Victor. "He's not responding when I talk to him. I'm worried."

"He'll be okay, let me try and take care of this," it was Yuuri. Yuri didn't know when the Japanese man had arrived. "Can you go get food from the restaurant and bring it up, I doubt he'll be up to leaving the room."

Yuri heard the door open and close and then he heard a set of footsteps heading his way. He didn't look up. 

"Yuri," Yuuri's voice was kind and he had crouched down to be in Yuri's view. "I need to you to listen to me." The voice was gentle, urging. Yuri found that he wanted to respond to it. "Can you stand up? I'm going to help you so hold onto my arm if you think your balance will give out."

Yuri stood his legs wobbled at his weight but he righted himself. His gaze never left the floor. 

"Good job," Yuuri sounded proud. "I'm going to lead you over to the bathroom, I set something comfortable in there for you to change into. You can take a shower if you want but you don't have to if you're not up for it."

The bathroom door shut behind him with a soft click. His costume had begun to grow itchy the longer he sat in it, he felt disgusting but barely had the energy to take a shower. 

He opted to fill up the bath instead and soak in the water until it lost its comforting warmth. He left his hair as it was, still half braided and messy, but now wet. 

The outfit Yuuri had set out for him was the one that he always changed into when he was upset. A pair of sweatpants and an oversized faded tshirt with a tiger face on it. He almost smiled at the sight of it. 

As he grabbed for the door handle to leave, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He looked dead. His expression was vacant, his eyes were distant, his skin was even paler than usual. He left the room with an even deeper scowl than he had entered with. 

"You look much more comfortable," Yuuri smiled at him. "Those costumes aren't fun to wear for a long time."

Yuri made a sound to acknowledge he had heard him. He wasn't about to start talking any time soon. 

"Your hair looks pretty messy," Yuuri pointed out. "Would you like me to brush it for you?" Yuri thought for a second and then nodded, that did sound nice. "Okay sit right here," Yuuri patted the floor in front of the chair he was sitting on. "I'll go grab a brush."

A minute later Yuuri was undoing the now messy braid in Yuri's hair. It had been years since someone had brushed his hair like this and Yuri relished at the feeling. There was something about having someone put forth the time and care to untangle the mess atop his head that was soothing. 

He leaned back into the gentle touch of Yuuri's fingers. The detangling process only took a few minutes and Yuri knew that the older man likely only continued the actions as a means of comforting him. It would be a lie to say it wasn't working. 

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Yuuri pulled his hands away and made room for Yuri on the seat. "Are you ready to talk?"

Yuri stood up from the ground and settled into the space Yuuri had cleared for him. He still didn't speak. 

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," Yuuri told him. "I won't force you to. If you just want some company and silence, then that's what you'll get."

Yuri nodded his gratitude. It wasn't that he didn't want to speak, it was that he didn't know how to say what he was feeling. It didn't quite make any sense to him. "I just want to go home," is what he settled on. 

"Soon enough," Yuuri rubbed soothing circles on Yuri's back. "You'll be okay."

"I want my momma," Yuri's voiced cracked. "I don't know why, she doesn't want me. I hate her, I never want to see her again. What's wrong with me?" His eyes began to prickle and tears slowly rolled down his face. "I wanna go home. I don't know what to do. I need something but I don't know what."

Yuuri wrapped both his arms around him and  
pulled Yuri securely to his chest. "It's okay it's okay," he soothed. "There's nothing wrong with wanting someone who's supposed to love and cherish you no matter what. Is that what this is? Is that what you want?"

Yuri's breaths came hard and uneven. "I don't know," he continued to cry. "How could I know? Momma didn't want me and papa didn't care. Why does it still bother me? I accepted that they'll never love me a long time ago. I cut them out, I don't want contact with them."

"Yuri they were supposed to be your parents," Yuuri explained. "The people in life who should love you and encourage you. Comfort you when you're hurting. They were supposed to accept you no matter what. But they didn't, that hurts. It's okay that that hurts."

"But I have dedushka and he's so much better," his voice was shaky. "He loves me no matter what. He always there. But it's not enough I don't know why. Why do I feel like something's missing?"

Yuuri brushed the stray hair away from his eyes but didn't break the hug. Yuri didn't want him to. "I think I might have an idea," Yuuri sounded upset about that. His next words were cut off by a light tapping on the door. "That must be Victor with dinner," he told him. "Are you okay if I let go?"

Yuri nodded. He felt strangely empty upon losing the contact though. It was a feeling he had been noticing more frequently lately, he didn't know why. 

"You're looking a bit better now," Victor smiled at him. "I'm sorry the food took so long, the wait at the restaurant downstairs was ridiculously long. There are a lot of hungry skaters."

"He was in the bath for most of it anyway," Yuuri told Victor. "Now I think we could all use something to eat."

Victor and Yuuri carried over the take out boxes and somehow both managed to squeeze onto the small couch on either side of him. "I couldn't remember your usual dish on competition nights, so I hope I wasn't too far off," Victor handed him a box and a fork. 

It was chicken alfredo. "No you did fine," Yuri smiled at the dish, it was something he enjoyed and didn't eat very often. "This is perfectly passable." 

Yuri was a little bit squished between the two larger men, but he managed to eat his meal just fine despite that. It was almost a comfort having both of them there anyway. 

Once they had all finished and thrown away their trash Yuuri shot him a concerned look. The Japanese man had been pensive the entire time they were eating and it seemed he had something to say. "Yuri, can we continue that conversation we were having before dinner?" Yuri wasn't sure what there was to talk about any further but he nodded anyway. 

"Would you like me to stay or should I go?" Victor asked. 

"You can stay," Yuri told him. "Please do." He wanted them both there at the moment. 

They sat in silence for a minute before Yuuri began to speak. "This might sound weird at first, but please bear with me," he said. "Your parents. What were they like when you were little? Did they sing you lullabies when you couldn't sleep, read you bedtime stories, let you climb into bed with them when you had bad dreams?"

Yuri thought about it for a few seconds, scrunching his eyebrows together. "I don't think so. Isn't that just something they show in movies?"

Victor and Yuuri shared a look overtop his head. "Okay, well what about when you got hurt. Did they try and comfort you? Did they kiss it better when you fell a little too hard. If you got really angry did they try and calm you down?"

Once again he had to think about it. He remembered them fighting with each other during times he was tantruming, but that always started after he was upset, it never caused it. "No," he shook his head. "They believed in self-soothing or something like that."

He couldn't read the expressions on the others faces. "Were they affectionate, did they play with you and take you to the park? Did you do crafts together? Did they carry you often? Hug you, hold your hand?"

"We didn't play games," Yuri shook his head. "There was no time since I was always at ballet or ice skating. I had a craft table in my room.." now that he thought about though, it usually sat untouched. He assumed his parents never had the time to make stuff with him. "I didn't use it much. They thought that carrying me would make me lazy so they only did it when I was too tired to walk or they were angry and wanted me to move faster." He thought some more about it. His parents weren't the type of people to hug him, it just wasn't something they did, that was normal. "Momma never held my hand, if she wanted me to stick close she would pull me by my wrist. Always said my fingers were sticky."

Victor looked downright angry and Yuuri seemed pretty upset. Upset enough that he let out a string of curses in Japanese, which Yuri recognized because those were the most important words. "So they didn't comfort you when you cried, they never played with you, and they didn't even hug you or carry you? Is that how they always were?"

Yuri nodded immediately, that required no thought. "That's how parents are. I don't know why it's different in movies and the such. Probably distorted reality."

"Yuri," it was Victor this time. "Were they ever happy with you? Did they ever say how proud you made them?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Only about my dancing though. Momma loved my ballet, nothing else but that. They just weren't affectionate but that's normal."

Victor and Yuuri shared a look of horror and another string of cusses came out of Yuuri's mouth. "I had really hoped I was wrong," Yuuri frowned. 

"Wrong about what?" Yuri asked. "What is there to wrong about?"

"Yuri," Yuuri's tone was careful. "That's not normal. None of that is normal, physical contact is an essential part of early development. Bedtime stories, playing together, all of that is something that children need. I'm sad to hear that they were the way they were, but it doesn't come as a surprise."

Yuri was slightly shocked to hear that. He had always assumed that that was what was normal. He hadn't had many friends as a child and rarely played at other kids houses so he had no basis of comparison. Touch meant he had done something wrong and was about to get punished, it was bad when he was little. He hadn't understood why people were so free about it. Casually holding hands or walking with arms slung around shoulders. It was something he was afraid of and he hadn't known why he craved it so much. "Oh," he said simply.

Victor was practically fuming, though it would take someone who knew him well to see that. The man always grew dangerously calm when angry. "Those horrible people, they should never have had children if they weren't going to take proper care of them. I'm glad you're here now Yuri," he scowled. "I wish I had known this sooner then I would have been able to gi-" a look from Yuuri was enough to shut him up. 

"It's a lot to take in, I'm sorry to have brought this up with your free skate tomorrow," Yuuri apologized, placing his hand on Yuri's arm. 

"No, thank you," strangely enough he felt much better after learning that. It made sense. "That helped. I'm tired now, I would like to sleep. You can leave now, I'll be okay."

Victor and Yuuri shared yet another look that he couldn't read. They both pulled him into a hug before leaving. One that was much longer and tighter than usual.

As he settled into bed for the night he thought about what they had said. It really did make a lot of sense. He was the only person he knew who was extremely reserved about physical contact,only rarely initiating it and often jerking away from any unexpected touches. 

His grandfather was one of the few people who he would hug readily. And even then he mostly only did that when it had been quite some time since he had last seen him. 

The concept seemed strange to him but the more he thought about it the more he realized that he was the odd one out when it came to that kind of thing. It was easy enough to ignore when it doesn't seem of any importance. But still, it was nice to know that that was a potential reason for why he felt so alone all the time. 

For some reason, it actually was the most calming thing he'd thought of all day and he quickly found himself succumbing to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was inspired so this came out faster than I expected it to. I hope it's enjoyable to read. 
> 
> Like always I would appreciate any and all feedback. It makes me happy to know people like my story which makes me wanna write more. Thanks for reading!


	10. Of Medals and Ice Cream Cones

Yuri awoke with his head remarkably clear and his body feeling lighter than it had since August. He didn't know how long the feeling would last and he intended to cherish it while he could. The men's free skate was scheduled later in the day than the short program had been the day before so he had slept in a few hours.

He opened his curtains to let sunlight stream in and practically danced around the room. He felt like himself and couldn't be happier about it.

He didn't know where he currently stood in the rankings, and he didn't really care at the moment. He felt as if some weight he had been dragging behind him was gone for the moment and that was all that mattered.

He stretched while singing along to some obnoxiously loud song, he didn't even particularly like the song it was just upbeat and loud and so happy. He was happy.

The quietness of the hotel restaurant as most of the skaters ate was almost shocking to him. Yuri came down bubbling with excitement and practically radiating a joy he hadn't felt since his junior days. "Good morning!" He was cheerful as he plopped down at the table with Yakov and the others.

He pretended to miss the startled looks everyone around him shared. "Good morning Yuri," Yakov sounded almost apprehensive. Yuri was just waiting for him to jump into a lecture about his actions the day before. He didn't though. "Are you ready for your free skate today?"

"Yes," he nodded. "What position am I in?"

"You're in fourth after the short program," it was Lilia who provided this information. "Seung-Gil Lee is in first, Leo de la Iglesia is second, and Guang-Hong Ji is third."

"I can work with that," Yuri took in the information. The rankings didn't seem to matter though. He just wanted to skate. "How did you do yesterday, Mila? I'm sorry I didn't watch."

"Don't worry about it," Mila grinned at him. "I'm currently in second but I plan to change that tomorrow in my free skate."

"She did great," Georgi elbowed her and then coughed what suspiciously sound like 'personal best.'

"Mila! You hag," Yuri practically screeched. "You scored a personal best without me there to cheer for you. Rude."

"Guess you'll have to make up for it tomorrow," she teased. "Go out there and do your best today, maybe I'll forgive you then."

Yuri stuck his tongue out like the mature sixteen year old that he was and turned to his breakfast plate. Though it technically was lunchtime by then, he still had gotten breakfast. It wasn't anything heavy, a piece of toast and an egg along with some fruit like he'd eaten the morning before. A small meal, but it still provided the energy he would need for the day. He could eat something bigger later on anyway.

He was practically bouncing up and down with anticipation of the upcoming even. He wanted to perform now. It took years for them to finally leave the hotel and arrive at the rink—it was only two hours, but it felt longer.

There seemed to be a silent understanding between everybody that this was not to be treated like a normal competition. He had practically thrown his routine out the window the second he woke up. It felt like they were scared to say anything to him lest it bring back a harsh reality.

Yuri knew that this feeling wasn't going to last forever, he knew that he would likely be dragged back into that half darkness his mind had grown accustomed to. But until then he planned on enjoying this almost freedom he had.

"Is it time yet?" He kept asking, his impatience similar to  how in was in some of his earlier competitions. When he was finally given the go ahead to change into his costume he practically ran to the dressing room.

His free skate costume was probably the least flashy costume he had ever had for a performance. Typically his costumes screamed for attention, demanded that all eyes be on him. This costume was supposed to do the opposite.

The sleeves were tight in a way that accentuated the small amount of muscle mass he had. His frame was graceful and lithe and the costume showed that off without making a focus on it. The costume hugged his upper body tightly, but not in a way that hurt, it was a comfort almost.

His chest almost disappeared underneath it, one would only be able to see the extra curve to it up close. The audience definitely would not notice. He was glad about that.

Once he had changed he went to find the others. There was still a bit of time before his performance so he didn't have to worry about that just yet. "Do you want your hair braided again?" Georgi asked him.

"No I was thinking I'd leave it down for the most part," Yuri said, he didn't want an extravagant hairdo taking away from the image he had created. He did have something he wanted done with it though, but that would require Yuuri not Georgi.

He walked over to where Yuuri was standing with his back towards him and reached out to get his attention. His hand stalled before he made contact though. Now that he thought about it he didn't know how he should proceed. Touch through clothing almost didn't count, he had trained himself to be quick with physical contact, light taps on shoulders or joking punches to upper arms. Always always through clothing.

He had created an entire rule system about touch without even realizing it. It was a strange thought. Before he could make up his mind on how to get Yuuri's attention, the older man noticed his presence and turned around. "Is there something you want?" He asked.

Yuri nodded. "Do you think you could brush my hair again for me?" He bit his lip. "Like you did yesterday. Please?" He paired it with a look that said  _Not a word, don't ask why._

"Of course," Yuuri smiled warmly. "Let me grab a brush from Georgi and then we can sit down on that bench over there unless you'd prefer we go to the dressing room."

"Dressing room," Yuri turned on his heel and walked away, he knew Yuuri would follow him. And he did, arriving a couple minutes after Yuri did.

"Here why don't you sit," Yuuri drug a stool over in front of one of the mirrors. Yuri took the seat gratefully and leaned his head back slightly.

Yuuri didn't say anything as he ran the brush through Yuri's hair. They both knew it didn't need to be brushed, but neither of them made a comment about it. It was a comfort Yuri had allowed himself, something calming even though he wasn't upset for once. A form of contact that could literally be brushed off as something else. He knew that Yuuri would know the reasons behind him asking for this, but the Japanese man would never mention that.

"Thank you," Yuri leaned forward and away from the touch once he had enough. "It looks better now."

"Do you have something to keep it out of your eyes with?" Yuuri asked. "A clip maybe?"

Yuri shook his head. "I didn't think to bring one."

"I thought you might not have one," Yuuri said. "I made sure to bring one for you," he held out his palm. "Will this do?"

Yuri looked at the clip and then up at Yuuri in confusion. It looked almost exactly like some clips he had when he was little. The plastic and metal looked worn and it sported a tiger pattern on top, he could almost swear it was his but he hadn't had those clips in years. "Where did you find this?" He asked as he pushed his hair to the position he wanted it and clipped it in place.

"It was just lying around," Yuuri brushed the question away. "It's tiger print, I thought you'd appreciate that."

"I've gotta get out there and kick some ass," Yuri said, turning and marching back to the rinkside. It was time for him to put his skates on and skate his warmup.

He could hardly lace his skates up, he was bubbling over with excitement. "Now now Yura," Yakov scolded. "Calm down a little bit."

"Bite me," Yuri growled. He didn't need to be told what to do. He was Yuri Plisetsky, gold medalist, Russia's rising star. He was...why was the ground so close.

Yakov caught him before he could fall flat on his face. "Imbecile boy," he tutted. "If you were paying attention you would've realized you only had one skate on."

Yuri looked at his feet, and indeed his right foot was markedly lacking in the shoe department. "Oops," he grinned sheepishly. He made sure that both of his skates were secured before standing again.

"And take more care in where you place those blasted things next time," the coach frowned. "If it weren't for Georgi we would've left them behind yesterday. You almost had to wear Mila's skates today."

That was the closest anyone had come to mentioning his outburst the day before, but he knew the meaning behind it. "I'll be more careful," he ducked his head. "I'd never medal wearing hers. They're better for speed." _I can't jump quads without my skates_ went unsaid.

He put that behind him though and took to the ice along with the five other men. He found himself almost laughing at the sensation before forcing himself to get in the mindset to compete. He couldn't let himself fall in the rankings today or there was no hope of making it to the final.

By the time the warmup was over and he stood rinkside again, his expression was serious. He would be skating third again and since he had paid little attention to opponents the day before, he didn't know what he was up against.

Once again he stood between Yakov and Lilia as the first skater took to the ice, but this time his attention was set on analyzing the performance before him. The debut American was set to go first. Yuri recognized him as the World Junior silver medalist from the season before, the guy was obviously good but his performance didn't show that. It must be nerves or something of the like.

Yuri wasn't worried about this guy scoring very high, there just wasn't a connection between the skater and the ice. It was nothing like the performance he had seen from him before.

"His father recently passed away," Yakov answered the question without him asking it. "I don't know the details of it but it was unexpected, he's only competing because his father would have wanted that." Yuri nodded, he could see it now reflected in the last few seconds of the program. Grief was heavy on the ice.

It was the French skater who took to the ice next. He seemed a bit shaky on his feet and Yuri narrowed his eyes slightly. "He's sick," he stated after a second. Now that he thought about it he could remember one of the skaters seeming to have a bad cold during practice the other day. "That must suck."

He knew it did, in his early junior days he had come down with what he had thought was a cold right before a competition. Somehow he managed to land himself at second even though he had been in a cold medicine induced haze the whole time. It turned out to actually be the flu and he had been banned from practice for weeks. After that he took extra care to prevent himself from getting too sick.

He hoped that the French guy would get to go back to the hotel right after this, based on how he was performing it didn't look liked he'd be standing much longer. Yuri made sure to cheer extra loudly when he finished, it wasn't something he'd normally do but he was feeling extra kind that day.

He heard various wishes of good luck in at least three languages and he had a slight smile on his face as he skated to the center. The noise from the audience faded out of his attention. He knew what he was skating for.

Yuri took his starting position. He stood with his head hung, his shoulders slumped, and his arms limp by his sides, a perfect image of someone who had completely given up.

He kept his head down at the start of the program. His mind was filled with things he had been told over the past few months. He had allowed himself to be defeated.

There was no pride in defeat. Defeat was much to sour for humility. He was not someone who was easily defeated. He wouldn't allow this any longer. He kept his first step sequence devoid of emotion.

This had gone much too far, he was Yuri Plisetsky and he was going to act like it. He would reach out to his broken self and pull him up. Help him rise above.

That's what he had to do. No matter what it took he would reach down and keep pulling until he was on solid ground. Not higher than anyone else, but not down in the depths were he had been for so long.

The words of Lilia and Yakov and Victor and Yuuri enveloped him. He let them in, he let himself believe them. He lifted his head up high. Triple toe loop-double toe loop combination.

It was easier after that, his step sequences grew more confident. His jumps cleared higher on the ice. Last season Lilia had told him to throw himself away. Had told him that the best skaters were the ones who could rebuild themselves time and time again.

This was him rebuilding himself. He would be stronger, untouchable even. Because this is who is was and what he lived for. Half-biellmann spin. Most men weren't flexible enough for that spin.

Out here on the ice he couldn't be defined by what he was supposed to be. He was just Yuri out there, merely himself. He was exposing himself to the world in a way he hadn't before.

Picking himself up and putting the pieces together to be stronger than ever before. He could and he would become stronger, rise higher than ever before. He found strength in his weakness. This was the first time he understood what Lilia had meant about him being built of opposites.

His motions grew larger, but he did not allow a fragment of arrogance into his skating. He didn't have to, he would be humble about this. Vaguely he could hear the audience cheering for him but it didn't affect him at all. His routine was coming to an end. Soon he would have to stop flying and come down to earth. Quad salchow.

He caught the inside of his blade and hit the ice. He moved too quickly to register pain. Up on his feet, he couldn't rise above if he was on the ground.

The music soon ended and he took his final position. It was the same as his starting except he stood up straight and held his head high. He held his arms out as if to say _look around, look at what I am_.

It took all of his strength not to sink to his knees then and there. He could feel a deep ache where his hip had hit the ground. That would definitely be a bruise come morning. He gathered up an armful of plushies and made his way off the rink, a slight smile on his face.

"That was beautiful Yuri," Lilia looked proud. "Absolutely beautiful, I almost didn't recognize that boy out there."

"You utterly botched that landing," Yakov jumped straight into lecture, a sign that things were slightly more normal. "And that last step sequence was abysmal, you said you would work on it."

Yuri tipped his head back and laughed. This moment felt so clear and happy, he wished he could bottle it up. "This isn't the kiss and cry," he stated, moving over in that direction.

It was so different from yesterday when he had wanted to bolt before ever hearing his score. Now he couldn't wait to see how he had done.

He had a genuine smile on his face for probably the longest period of time in a while. The numbers on the screen flashed up. 275.93 was his total—which meant he must have scored 195.32. He was in first. He could have done better, but it was good enough for him. He hadn't been skating for the score anyway.

He rushed to change out of his skates and find a seat in the audience with Victor and Yuuri, he didn't want to miss watching Guang-Hong perform.

"Hi Yuri," Victor grinned at him as he took his seat. "It's nice to see you again." They both knew what he meant by that.

"How'd I do?" Yuri couldn't prevent the grin that spread across his face.

"I couldn't look away if I had wanted to," Yuuri told him. "That's what we've been waiting for."

"Though it was missing something," Victor mused. "I'm not sure what exactly."

"I know," Yuri nodded. He had thought the same thing. "Now hush, I wanna see this."

Guang-Hong had taken to the ice and his music had just started. His costume was in shades of purple and seemed to be suggestive of some type of flower. Yuri wasn't super knowledgeable about flowers—he considered them to be too feminine—but he assumed it probably had some meaning behind it.

The music was intense and the skating even more so. It seemed like with every move the boy was desperately trying to pull two opposing forces together. The technical difficulty of the program was a bit easier than his own, but he could tell Guang-Hong was going to rack up on performance points.

He watched as the boy's movements became more fluid, the music calmed a bit. He watched him land a quad salchow, it was a bit shaky but better than he had done in his program.

When the music ended he found himself cheering along with the rest of the crowd. He wasn't usually one to cheer others on, at least not out loud.

"He really improved from last year," he heard Victor telling Yuuri. Yuri nodded at that statement.

While he couldn't call the Chinese boy a friend exactly, he was still closer to him than he was to most of the other skaters. Making friends was not something he was good at but he was attempting to be more approachable this season, at least when it came to friendly discussion.

He heard the score announced throughout the arena. Guang-Hong had just scored a personal best and was in first place. Yuri didn't mind, if he were to be truthful his own performance had not been enough to win, he wasn't expecting that.

Leo was set to skate next, Yuri hadn't really competed against the American before. They had just never been assigned to the same competitions before so Yuri didn't know much about his skating style. He did know that Leo choreographed all his own performances and didn't have a solid theme tying his performances together. If he remembered correctly, the older man had said that all he was on the ice was a conduit for the music.

Yuri could see that as Leo performed. In a way he became the music as he performed, it was impressive really. Yuri didn't need to see the rest of the performance to know that he would be beaten by this one too.

It was almost strange to see himself be exceeded by others, he was used to being the one to beat. The one always just a few steps ahead, especially back when he was still skating juniors. He was thankful for that of course, but it was still strange.

Everybody had looked at him as some kind of unbeatable, bad tempered prodigy. And in a way that wasn't wrong. But no one ever thought to ask about the work he put into it. They assumed it came easier to him than it did to most others, when in reality it didn't come easy at all.

He had to deal with a body that dipped and curved in all the wrong places. A body that couldn't hold up to the standards he needed it to unless he pushed and pushed and pushed. He pushed himself to sickness more than once in an attempt to improve himself.

But he did it so well that nobody could say he wasn't good enough to be where he was, even with all the press circulating about him. They always asked if he was allowed to compete in men's, not if he should compete in women's. It seemed ridiculous to him that they would ask if he was allowed to after years of him doing so. Yuri didn't even know why he was allowed to compete in men's, he suspected that his grandfather and Yakov probably had something to do with it, but he didn't know any of the technicalities behind it. He didn't want to either.

"Seung-Gil is up," an elbow to his side brought him out of his thoughts.

"Huh, oh," Yuri looked down at the rink. This performance would be the deciding factor in if he medaled or not. This was what he hated most about not going close to last, he never knew how well he had to do to beat the others. Knowing that was an advantage.

An advantage that the Korean skater seemed to be using. The first part of the program went smoothly and Yuri felt the seeds of dread sprouting in his chest. He just knew he wouldn't land on the podium, he'd have to work so much harder in France to make up for this and with more formidable opponents he wasn't sure he could. But then something happened, Yuri recognized it right away. He had watched it happen at Rostelecom last season. Seung-Gil fell, then he fell again.

Yuri's bruised leg twinged in sympathy every time the other skater hit the ice. Which wasn't too many times, but there was just enough mistakes, just enough botched landings that he had a chance. A very slim chance.

275.25. He heard the score announced. 275.25. He had done it. It was only a measly .68 points but he had done it. A cautious smile spread across his face.

He took third place.

The medal ceremony wasn't anything special really, it lost its grandeur after many years of the same thing. The only thing different this time was that Yuri wasn't standing on the highest or even the second highest podium.

Guang-Hong stood in the middle, a gold medal around his neck and a pink flush on his cheeks. He pulled both Yuri and Leo up onto the top podium with him to take a selfie.

Yuri didn't object. He found himself examining his medal. "Bronze is an interesting color," he said more to himself than anything.

"Does it not suit you? Do Russian fairies only deal in gold?" It was Leo teasing him.

"Piss off," Yuri rolled his eyes, he wasn't actually upset. The other two had performed better than him by far. They deserved those medals.

"I believe you owe me dinner," Guang-Hong this time. "Remember our last competition?"

Yuri vaguely remembered some threat he had made at that competition a few years ago. "'Next go around I'm winning this, loser pays for dinner for the winner,'" Guang-Hong quoted at him.

Yuri groaned. "You really gonna hold me to something I said a few years ago?"

"You would do the same," the Chinese boy replied.

Yuri knew he was right though so he didn't try arguing. There was no point in an argument he had already lost. "Okay fine," he grumbled. "But not until all the events are over."

"Deal," Guang-Hong smiled. "You can pick the place and let me know, just no hot pot. And Leo's coming too."

"Mila and Sara will probably tag along," Yuri said. "Victor and Yuuri might too."

"Victor would come?" Guang-Hong paled at the statement.

"I don't know," Yuri shrugged. "How that old man makes decisions is beyond me."

Their conversation was cut short after that as they were pulled into an interview. Yuri stood through it with a thin lipped smile and refused to give much beyond a yes or a no. The reporters were quick to stop questioning him after that. If there's no story given they just make one up, Yuri was content to allow them to continue the fantasy they had spun of him.

In a way he liked fantasy him more than he did real him. Fantasy him could be anybody, he was stuck as he was quickly growing stagnant. Sixteen years felt a whole lot longer than that sometimes. He was too tired for this.

The joy he had felt that morning was fading fast and he couldn't keep his public persona intact much longer. It didn't take much to get himself excused back to the hotel.

His bronze medal was tossed unceremoniously onto the nightstand by the bed, be was pretty sure it fell to the ground and he'd have to spend a few minutes looking for it before he left in a couple of days. It's not like he didn't already have a huge medal collection though, he could probably lose three or four of them before even noticing that there seemed to be a gap.

Except for his gold from the season before, that medal was special to him. It was proof that he could perform where he was. That he was strong enough to win.

Right now though all he wanted was to sleep. He still wasn't completely recovered from jet lag and skating was hard work, though it seemed to him that being cheerful all day was what had really drained him.

Unhappiness was something he had grown accustomed to since August. It wasn't a constant feeling, but it was always lurking, always waiting to reach out at just the right moment and pull him down again.

It was tiring. He was tired.

He was tired of being tired more than anything else. It felt as if the feeling had crawled into his bones and made itself a home there. It was more at home in his own body than he was.

It was a feeling that took everything from his. His passion, his drive, even his time. Days had blended together so much that when he tried to remember the last couple months most of it was a hazy blur with only a few moments standing clear. Too many ups and downs, the downs worse and more plentiful than the ups.

Sixteen was too young for this. He should be struggling with first relationships or overbearing parents like everyone else his age. Except one he was too busy for and the other wasn't a reality of his. But instead he was stuck in a limbo of unknowns. He felt like a baby giraffe sometimes. Not quite used to the world yet, still wobbly, almost unable to stand up.

He fell asleep in a tangle of blankets so tight it might as well have been a cocoon. They blankets were soft and warm at least. A nice comfort after his long day.

The next day held the last events of Skate America and he was quite glad to not be performing. His hip had turned a nasty yellow purple color over night and it kinda hurt to walk but he didn't let that show.

When he wasn't performing, it became much more interesting to watch those who were. His own skating wasn't up against these people so it was easier to enjoy it and not analyze every movement, though he did that anyway. By the end of the competition his hands hurt from all the clapping he had done.

Mila had taken gold in Ladies and he was rather proud of her for that, he would never admit it. Her performance had been very good and she had a good five point margin on Sara who had come in second.

It was dark by the time everything was over but he still had dinner plans with the other skaters. Yuri had picked a friendly looking diner and was waiting for the others to join him.

"Twenty-four hour breakfast," Victor grinned, he had invited himself along. "This place is wonderful Yurio, good pick."

"Shut up old man," Yuri frowned at him. Of course it was wonderful, he only ever made good choices.

"It really does seem nice," Yuuri smiled at him. "Not as good as home, but good enough."

"Not everywhere can have katsudon, Katsudon," he rolled his eyes. "Appreciate the Belgian waffle."

"Did Belgian waffles even originate in Belgium?" Sara asked, he noticed her arrive but both she and Mila were sitting down now.

"Yes," it was Victor who answered though Yuri didn't know why he knew that.

"Sorry we're late again,"'Guang-Hong and Leo came around the corner to the table. "I swear I don't do this on purpose. It's always his fault," he sent a playful glare at Leo.

"Ah, young love," Victor smiled at the new arrivals. "I remember when that was me and you," he turned to Yuuri who flushed.

Guang-Hong flushed as well and it was then that Yuri noticed he and Leo had walked in holding hands. Though the Chinese skater quickly pulled his to his side. "W-we're not dating," he spluttered out, cheeks still rather pink.

"He's right," Leo nodded. "He's just my friend."

"Well take a seat," Victor gestured. "Get whatever you want, my treat."

"But I'm supposed to pay, I'm the one who made a bet," Yuri protested, really he did so out of the sport of it.

"Victor can pay, don't worry Yuri," Guang-Hong looked a bit star struck. Yuri decided to let him have his moment and went back to perusing the menu.

He already knew he was going to get a waffle but he had lost track of the conversation and decided that looking through the menu was a good way to stay out of it for a little bit longer. Menus were always interesting because he travelled so much, it was strange to see what variety of foods could be found in different countries. Though he supposed that almost everything on this menu was unhealthy and definitely shouldn't be eaten by an athlete who needs to stay in shape.

"Yuri," he looked up when he heard his name. "It's your turn to order."

"Oh, I'll take a Belgian waffle with whipped cream and strawberries," he told the waitress who seemed to have no clue that a bunch of famous figure skaters were sitting in front of her.

Almost everybody else opted to get a breakfast item as well, except for Leo who once again chose something that looked like heart disease on a plate.

They ate in silence and really only started talking again when the thought of dessert came up. "I'm paying," Victor smiled. "So all of my favorite medalists can have a treat."

"I can get a treat whether I want or not," Yuri stated.

"Oh not you," Victor shook his head. "You have to get silver or higher and Yuuri here has to get gold," he winked at that. "Everyone else though is fine."

"Hey," Yuri and Yuuri choruses in unison.

"We have shared assets," Yuuri shot Victor a look, one that Yuri couldn't read.

"I kid, I kid, my sweet," Victor threw his hands up at Yuuri's expression. "Yurio did great, he worked hard for that bronze and he can have whatever treat he would like as long as he promises to take Makkachin on some of his runs."

"I do that anyway," Yuri frowned. "He's your stupid mutt, you should take him with you."

Sara burst into laughter watching the interaction. "You were right," she snorted, leaning toward Mila. "They really do act like family."

"I thought the same thing," Leo agreed. "It's like he's your dad."

"They're not my parents," Yuri groaned. "I hate them really. They're old and sappy and Yuuri makes me wash the dishes. I don't like washing dishes."

"I let you choose between sweeping and dish washing," Yuuri reminded him. "You chose that as your chore."

"That dies sound pretty familial to me," Guang-Hong grinned. "You sure about that Yuri?"

Yuri merely glared at them. Just because he was nice enough to offer up his services as a dish washer every once in a while didn't mean he was part of their little family. He just stayed with them and it was mutually beneficial. He got to be close to the rink and have home cooked meals, they got to live with Russia's best figure skater and a wonderful cat. Good for everyone involved.

"Lets all just get ice cream," Mila suggested. "That'll make it easier."

Everybody agreed to that sentiment and soon they all had their cones. "This is nowhere near as good as gelato," Sara claimed. "You all haven't lived until you've had that."

"I think it tastes fine," Guang-Hong yawned, his head nodding slightly and ice cream getting on his nose. Before he could wipe it off, Leo got a sly grin on his face and leaned forward to kiss it off much to the surprise of everyone there. Guang-Hong's face couldn't be redder if he tried.

"Aw, how sweet," Victor smiled, leaning in and kissing Yuuri's cheek as if the display of affection prompted one of his own.

"That dies not look like 'not dating' to me," Mila put air quotations around the words. "You just kissed him."

"On the nose," Leo stated. "That's hardly a kiss." Giant-Hong seemed to weakly protest for a second but then thought better of it and went back to his cone.

"If you say so," Sara singsonged. "But you seriously can't forget to invite me to the wedding."

"You're all sappy," Yuri groaned. "These two idiots are the only ones dating but you guys are even worse," he dramatically gestured to them.

"That means he cares about you," Yuuri had a small smile on his face. Yuri hated that he was a little bit right in that statement.

At that point they all had to scramble to eat their ice cream because it had begun to melt with all the shenanigans. They bid each other goodnight and farewell not too long after.

Yuri begrudgingly walked back to the hotel with Yuuri and Victor. "You don't get to mess up next weekend, Katsudon," he half threatened. "If you don't beat JJ I'm not sure I can forgive you."

Yuuri merely laughed. "You just wish you could be there to watch."

That was partially true, Yuri was used to going to all his rinkmates competitions so it would be odd to not go to this one. It made sense though, there was no point in going there since Victor was Yuuri's coach not Yakov.

"You better not mess up," Yuri glared at him. _I want to compete against you, don't let me down_ went unsaid.

"We'll see you in a week or so," Victor smiled at him. "Practice hard." _We'll miss you, stay safe._

"Oh I will," he snorted. _I'll miss you too_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really hard to write, I struggled with this chapter a ton so it's not as good as I wish it could be. Still I hope you enjoyed regardless of that. Like always, I love feedback. I'm a heterotroph reliant upon feedback


	11. Of Car Rides and Errands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna say right now that none of my chapters have been edited so there are bound to be mistakes in them.

It felt weird to be in St. Petersburg and not be staying with Victor and Yuuri. Back at Lilia's house, Yuri felt out of place. Here his presence didn't seem as important.

He didn't understand why he had been made to stay with Lilia for the week the other two were gone, he was old enough to take care of himself and had lived by himself before for longer stretches of time. But no matter how much he argued, he wasn't allowed to go back to Victor's until said man was home.

Perhaps the biggest source of annoyance was having to crowd around the tv at an ungodly hour to watch the competition live. But there was no way Yuri was going to wait to find out how Katsudon would fare against the Canadian idiot. And Otabek, he was competing too and Yuri hoped his friend would do well.

The short program had been the day before and it was toss up as to who would take the gold. Otabek was in first, JJ in second, and Yuuri in third.

Yuri hadn't paid much attention to who else was skating, that didn't matter much to him. He really only half paid attention to the skating as it aired anyway. It was late and he had trouble staying awake. He definitely nodded off more than once during the first three skaters performances.

To keep himself awake to watch the rest of it, he pulled out his phone and sent his version of a well wishing to both Yuuri and Otabek.

To Yuuri:  
 **Yuri** : don't mess this up Katsudon.

And to Otabek:  
 **Yuri** : you did so well yesterday Beka!  
 **Yuri** : you'd better make it to the final again so you can watch me win  
 **Yuri** : Davai!

"His free leg is sloppy," he heard Lilia critiquing Yuuri's performance on screen. "But it's beautiful. That's the kind of beauty you need to skate with Yuri."

She offered advice like that all the time but watching Yuuri on screen made it seem like something different. Practice Yuuri and competition Yuuri were the same but so very very different. It was interesting to see. "No way I'm gonna skate like that loser," Yuri huffed. "I had to teach him how to land a quad salchow last season. Me, teach him a quad," he emphasized the last part. It was actually something he was proud of.

"You can learn from everybody Yuri," Lilia never bought into his overly tough act. "And insulting your competitors is unbecoming."

Yuri stuck his tongue out at her from behind her back. He was a mature sixteen year old, he would insult whomever he wanted. Lilia pretended not to notice.

Yuuri's performance was enough to put him in first. It wasn't anywhere near his record, but it was better than Yuri had done the week before. Yuri suspected that by the GPF, it would be quite a formidable program to go against.

JJ was next and Yuri rolled his eyes at the sight of the obnoxious Canadian. He couldn't remember the mans the for the year but it at least wasn't about how great he was this time. Yuri hated to admit that JJ was a much better skater than he was, his height and his ability to clear the ice certainly were advantageous.

"Look how he maintains his control there," Lilia said after JJ had jumped a quad toe loop. "You can land that in practice when you try, but you don't have the control to hold it steady."

More like he didn't have the strength is what he thought, but he didn't say it out loud. He also didn't voice his current opinion on the man. It was an impressive program, he could admit that much. Though he would definitely beat him at France.

Yuri was slightly displeased to see that JJ had outperformed Yuuri and taken first, but it was by less than five points so that wasn't too much. If Yuuri hadn't missed a combination in his short program he would be in the lead most likely.

Finally it was time for Otabek to skate and Yuri smiled when he saw his friend take to the ice. Just before skating to the center, Otabek looked at the nearest camera and shot it a thumbs up. Yuri supposed it was an acknowledgment of sorts.

Otabek had refused to tell Yuri his theme for the season and he couldn't make it out from watching the skater. Yuri assumed it was either something embarrassing or Otabek was just messing around with him to see how long it would take him to figure it out. It was probably something simple.

"He's more graceful this year," Lilia commented. "He skates like he came to terms with something."

Yuri didn't ask how she could tell that. She made statements like that quite often but she would never explain. He was just told that he'd be able to know. He thought that was bullshit.

Otabek did well, but not well enough to place him better than Yuuri or JJ. He still scored higher than Yuri had for his bronze.

"Go to bed Yuri," Lilia told him. "You have a busy day tomorrow and I don't plan on taking it easy on you."

He didn't argue. Though of course once he settled into bed and closed his eyes he was wide awake and restless. After a while he gave up on trying to sleep right then and pulled his phone out, it had been long enough that he should have gotten replies.

**Yuuri** : JJ seems concerned about you, did something happen I don't know about?  
 **Yuri** : what did he say?  
 **Yuuri** : He asked about how you were doing and if you were okay.   
**Yuri** : well I'm fine obviously

Yuri had almost forgotten about his phone call the week prior. Almost. JJ had promised not to mention it and he hadn't, but Yuri did not appreciate him inquiring about his well being—it was weird, JJ wasn't supposed to be nice to him. Thinking about it further would be admitting that he had spoken to JJ willingly, so he decided he would ignore it for now.

He still wasn't tired though so he opened up his next set of messages.

**Otabek** : Third place. Bronze good enough for you.   
**Otabek** : Thank you.   
**Yuri** : you did good it was great  
 **Yuri** : I'm definitely gonna kick your ass so step it up  
 **Yuri** : what are you skating for?  
Otabek: Keep telling yourself that.   
**Otabek** : Wouldn't you like to know.   
Yuri: asshole  
 **Otabek** : I have an interview, I will call you sometime soon.

Yuri smiled a bit and set his phone down. There was no one left he wanted to talk to, so he might as well attempt to fall asleep again. It came surprisingly easy this time.

"Up, up, useless boy!" He awoke to Lilia throwing open the door to the room he was sleeping in. "Do you know what time it is? We have work today, get moving." She turned the lights on and left.

Yuri groaned, he knew better than to roll back over and go to sleep, but that's all he wanted to do. He crawled out of bed, much slower than he could have and gradually went about getting ready for the day. It was almost a full day of ballet training and he'd be lucky if he got to set foot on the ice.

"Are you a champion ice skater or a sloth?" He heard Lilia's accusation from across the house. "Because I think my efforts would be best expended on a sloth right now and not you."

"I'm ready, I'm ready," Yuri grumbled, brushing his hair back from his face as he walked up to Lilia.

"No, no," she shook her head at him. "Go shower, brush your hair, and change into an appropriate outfit."

Yuri looked down at what he was wearing, it was a typical practice outfit of his so he didn't see what was wrong with it. He blinked. "What am I supposed to wear, I'm practicing today, aren't I?"

"Shower, now," she didn't answer his question but he didn't dare ask again after seeing her expression.

He didn't know what he was meant to change into or why she wouldn't answer his question. After showering he stood with a towel wrapped around his body and looked through his bag. He didn't have a lot of clothing with him since he had been planning on going back to Victor's sooner and that's where all his clothes were.

He settled on a different practice outfit of his, that was pretty much all he had anyway. "No, not that either. Go change into this," Lilia handed him a rather formal outfit that he didn't think was his. "And make sure you have your special shirt on underneath."

Yuri was thoroughly confused at this point, he was supposed to have practice every day this week. It seemed like Yakov and Lilia were trying to keep him as busy as possible. But with Yakov having to go to Rostelecom with Georgi, it had come down to just Lilia and that was something strange.

Lilia was using Yakov's absence as an excuse to keep Yuri working mostly on ballet for the week, which made it extra strange that she was having him change into anything other than ballet clothes.

The outfit was a bit stiff and smelled like it came straight from the store and hadn't been washed yet, but it fit him perfectly so had no complaints. It was probably best described as business casual, he hadn't a clue why he needed to dress nicely though.

"Alright much better," Lilia nodded her approval when he came back out. "Come along, we have a lot to accomplish."

It did not take long for Yuri to realize they weren't going to the studio. They were in fact going the opposite direction of the studio, he recognized the building when they arrived but he had only ever been there once and that was a few years ago.

Once they entered, they were taken into a meeting room and Yuri took a seat. He felt extra small right then, his feet barely brushed the floor. "What are we doing here?" Yuri asked. "And why now?"

"It's a formality more than anything, there's been some unrest lately and a meeting was called up," Lilia explained. "Yakov is the one who usually handles everything to do with sponsorships but they couldn't reschedule so he asked that I would attend instead."

"Why did I have to come though?" Yuri groaned. There was a difference between sucking up to sponsors at banquets and the such and sitting through a meeting with them.

"They requested that you attend though I'm assuming you'll be sent out of the room at some point," she told him. "They only want you present, you don't have to do much speaking."

Yuri nodded, that meant he didn't have to pay attention. Or at least he could get away with zoning out for most of it, it sounded boring anyway.

The room soon filled with important looking people, all dressed nicely. "Thank you for coming on such short notice Ms. Baranovskaya. Plisetsky," a man whom Yuri deemed Mr. Important said. "I'm sure you're well aware of why this is necessary."

"I am aware," Lilia nodded. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me instead of Mr. Feltsman, that was very accommodating of you."

"Are we all knowledgeable on the reason we are here?" Mr. Important gestured around the table. Everyone except Yuri nodded, he didn't say anything though, this was a professional environment and he was not prepared to speak in such a manner that wouldn't be frowned upon.

"We can get right to business then," a lady whom Yuri deemed The Strict One said. "We are all aware of the current allegations circulating in the press rumor mill concerning young Plisetsky here. The question remaining is what is to be done about it."

"The press surrounding Mr. Plisetsky is no different than anything surrounding Mr. Nikiforov," Lilia said. "The stories may not be the same but the press works the same way regardless of what rumor they're chomping on at the time."

"This isn't a matter of a rumor Ms. Baranovskaya," Mr. Important stated. "This goes beyond the simple rumors we have had problems with in the past. This a deception if not a downright lie and trickery on your part."

Yuri's heart sank as he listened to them argue about him as if he weren't in the room. He knew why they suddenly concerned about this.

"This is at most a miscommunication," Lilia almost sounded angry. "Mr. Plisetsky here has in no way deceived or tricked any of you. He had very little to do with any of this, your original dealings were with Mr. Feltsman first and foremost."

"Our deals were in line with Plisetsky's accomplishments," The Strict One frowned. "The dealings were only done with Mr. Feltsman because of how Plisetsky was at the time. There is no excuse for this lack of communication."

"Mr. Plisetsky is a busy young man," Lilia sniped back. "He has a grueling practice regime  plus various competitions throughout the year and he has to balance schoolwork in as well, it has been made clear that your main line of communication is through Mr. Feltsman or myself."

"We have reached out to Mr. Feltsman on many occasions to remind him of our agreement," Mr. Important said. "Plisetsky here is supposed to keep on display all logos of sponsors, he's supposed to promote the company when asked about products pertaining to it, and he's supposed to keep a level head with the press. We don't ask much of him but we do expect those basic requirements to be met."

"Excuse me sir," Yuri found himself speaking though he hadn't intended to. "I believe I have met those. My warmup jacket proudly displays my sponsors on it and I wear that at every competition I attend, promoting your company doesn't take much effort those questions are easy to answer and I have in the past featured it in interviews. As for the press, they currently don't deserve respectful treatment. I treat them with as much respect as they treat me with."

There were a few shared looks and some mumbling amongst the others. "You need to stop feeding into these allegations," The Strict One finally acknowledged him. "You're allowing this to blow up in the media, soon it will be out of the sports world and everywhere. This is unacceptable."

A look from Lilia prevented Yuri from commenting right away. "Mr. Plisetsky has no control over the press and in fact he has been avoiding them to allow everything to settle down."

"There should have been no cause for this uproar in the first place," Mr. Important said. "And if there was, Plisetsky should have been upfront about it."

Yuri couldn't listen to this anymore. "Can you all stop pretending that you're talking about something other than what you are," he snapped. "Just acknowledge this is about the rumors circulating about my gender identity."

Mr. Important and The Strict One looked shocked at his outburst, Lilia didn't look shocked so much as regretful that he had had to listen to this. "This is about those allegations, yes. But it also pertains to your behavior," The Strict Ones mouth twisted into an unpleasant smile.

"No," Yuri shook his head. "We all know you only called this meeting because of the gender thing."

"Those allegations against you are going to mar your reputation," Mr. Important states. "Which in turn shines badly on my company. You need to refute them so everything stops."

Yuri saw red. "I'm not going to refute something that's true," he kept his voice low but it was biting. "You didn't request information about this upfront. I've held up my end of the deal nicely so far. Now if you'll excuse me," he spat. "I'm going to the lobby."

He didn't wait for permission before standing up and walking out without looking at any of them, he let the door close loudly behind him. That meeting had been a waste of his time and those people didn't care about anything but their revenues. They weren't the easy ones to suck up to and that certainly wasn't something he could sit through any longer.

Lilia joined him after half an hour. "Come on boy, we have more to do," he couldn't read her tone.

"How badly did I mess that up?" He asked a little bit later once they had been driving for a while. "I shouldn't have spoken that wasn't my place."

"They weren't going to reasoned with," Lilia sighed. "I wouldn't worry about it right now. Yakov and I can deal with them from here out, they shouldn't have requested your presence anyway."

Yuri nodded but didn't say anything in response, he had a sinking feeling in his gut that something was going to go horribly wrong because of his recent actions. He didn't know what, but there would be something.

The next place Lilia stopped at was the courthouse and Yuri was even more confused by this location. "You can stay in the car," she informed him. "I'm just here to pick something up, it shouldn't take any longer than ten minutes. If it does, feel free to come inside and wait for me in the seating area near the front desks."

Yuri nodded his understanding and leaned back in his seat. He closed his eyes and let himself fall into a half sleep since he was still tired from not sleeping enough the night before.

True to her word, Lilia was back in just a few minutes, a large Manila envelope clutched in hand. Yuri jerked back to being fully awake when the car door opened. "What's in that?" He pointed at the envelope in confusion.

"Some legal documents," Lilia answered. "Nothing that you should be concerned about."

"Where are we going now?" Yuri asked. It was well beyond lunchtime at this point and he would much rather be practicing than going to various errands with Lilia.

"The doctor," she told him. "You have to get blood drawn in order to compete in France, they want fresh analysis."

"But I just got it drawn before America," he whined. "They didn't make me do this last season." As a professional athlete he was used to having a physical about twice a year and getting his blood drawn every season. It was a routine thing that he didn't think much about, but it seemed odd to be doing it again so close to the last time.

"I think they requested it of Victor as well," Lilia said. "So it's not just you."

"This is stupid," he grumbled.

He had done this enough times that checking in was almost mechanical, fill out the form, sign his name, wait until he's called in. Filling the form out was really easy, he had done enough of them that he could probably do it in his sleep if necessary.

After filling out his name and all the medical related questions his hand froze over the only part of the form left to answer. This was arguably the worst part of every visit even though it was the simplest. He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair before answering it:

**Sex** : F

That was the worst part of every single trip to a doctor of any sort. He wished he could tear the paper up or cross the letter out and replace it with a 'm' but he couldn't. He handed it to the receptionist instead and took a seat next to Lilia with a scowl on his face.

"I don't like doing this," he frowned. "This is ridiculous, it's not gonna be any different than the last time they drew blood."

"It's the principle of it Yuri," Lilia told him. "Just because the results will be the same doesn't mean you don't have to take the test."

Yuri muttered something under his breath that would get him yelled at for being 'unbecoming' if Lilia had caught it. Just because it was the principle of it didnt mean he had to be happy about it.

"Miss Plisetskaya," the nurse at the door called. Yuri gritted his teeth and walked over that way, leaving Lilia behind. In the past, he had always gone to appointments by himself to keep the others from asking about the doctors consistent use of the feminine diminutive of his name.

His grandfather had helped him with the process of changing his name a long time ago, but at places like this they constantly got it wrong. "It's Plisetsky," he quietly corrected though the nurse took no show of hearing as she lead him down a hallway to where his blood would be drawn.

"Take a seat here ma'am," the nurse smiled at him. "I'll be right with you."

Yuri frowned even deeper but he took the seat and rolled his sleeve up. He knew the drill and he wanted this over with as soon as possible.

The nurse came back after ten minutes, this time with a clipboard that he assumed had his information on it. "Alright miss, this shows you've had this done quite a few times so you probably don't need an explanation of what I'll be doing."

"No," Yuri would've glared holes through her if he could have. "Just get it over with." He closed his eyes and looked away from his arm. Just because he had done this before did not mean he wanted to watched her stab him with a needle and take blood.

She was one of the better nurses for the job at least. He almost couldn't feel the needle in his arm which was a nice contrast to the last time he'd had it drawn. That nurse had had a terrible time finding his vein and his arm was extremely sore for a few days.

It was done soon enough and once the nurse had taped gauze over the draw site he opened his eyes up again. "Can I go now?" Yuri asked right away.

"You should stay seated for another minute miss," the nurse answered. "And if you're interested, I have the chart from your last test. I can explain your counts to you."

"No thanks," Yuri couldn't feel bad about how rude he was being since the lady kept calling him a girl. "I just want to leave."

"It would be beneficial if you allowed me to explain your results to you," she insisted.

"I said no," Yuri frowned deeper. "Unless I'm dying or it will stop me from skating, I don't care."

"Ma'am," the nurse caught onto his snappiness. "There is nothing of that sort. You may leave now if you so desire, make sure to get some food right away though and take it easy today."

As soon as he was told he could leave, Yuri got up and walked back out to where Lilia was, ignoring the wave of dizziness that overcame him. "Let's get out of here," he grumbled.

"That frown is going to stick of you keep it up," Lilia told him.

"She kept calling me a girl," Yuri told her as they walked.

"She was wrong Yuri," Lilia put on hand on his back and guided him to the passenger side of the car. "You're turning out to be a great young man, though you could use with some attitude adjustments."

"Is there anything else we have to do?" There was a slight whine in his voice.

"No, that should be it," Lilia shook her head.

"Good," Yuri slumped down in his seat. He was still lightheaded, much more so than he usually was after having his blood drawn. "I need to eat and take my binder off. I'm going to pass out if I don't."

"I'm sorry, I meant to bring something for you to eat afterwards but I forgot," Lilia pulled out of the lot. "Will you be okay until we get back to my house, or should I stop somewhere?"

"I'm sitting down so Ill be okay to wait," he told her.

Lilia drove a bit faster than usual which he was grateful for. Thankfully they managed to not get caught in traffic and arrived back at Lilia's soon after.

His head was still spinning when he stood up again and he practically clung to Lilia in order to remain upright as they walked inside. "Go change into something comfortable," Lilia pushed him towards the room he was staying in. "I'll bring you in something to eat in a couple minutes."

Yuri fumbled around with his clothes and haphazardly managed to change into the outfit he had put on earlier in the day. It took longer than usual to do so because the draw site on his arm made getting his binder off rather difficult. He felt a bit better once it was off though.

"You can eat in here," Lilia came in with a plate of food for him a little bit later. "I'm sure today was stressful for you."

"Thank you," Yuri accepted the plate and smiled weakly, she was right he was rather drained now.

"Victor and Yuuri will be getting back soon," she informed him. "It'll be late though so you're staying here again tonight and they'll pick you up sometime tomorrow. You don't have practice then but I expect you there bright and early the next day."

Yuri nodded and began to slowly pick at his food. Thankfully once he had eaten a fair portion, the dizziness subsided and he felt much better. From what Lilia had said, he assumed he had full permission to keep to himself until he was picked up the next day.

It was later than he had thought it was but not late enough to justify going to bed yet even though he was still tired from staying up late and even more tired from having blood drawn.

He ended up flopping down on the bed and scrolling through his phone for an hour or so, not really finding anything of interest to him. After a while of that he got bored and glanced at the time again, his eyes widening slightly when he saw the date as well. "Ah shit, I'm a terrible person," he said to himself.

He navigated to his text messages and clicked on Otabeks contact.

**Yuri** : Beka are you busy? Are you on a plane?  
 **Yuri** : Beks, answer me.   
**Yuri** : come on asshole answer me  
 **Yuri** : I'm calling you so answer your phone

Yuri grew frustrated at his friends lack of response after what had been a reasonable time to wait. He knew there was a chance that Otabek was on a plane but he was going to call anyway.

The call went to voice mail the first time so Yuri tried again. Then he tried again. It was on his fourth attempt that the phone was answered.

"Beka!" Yuri crowed happily upon hearing his friend on the other end of the line. "Happy birthday!"

"You called for that," Otabek deadpanned. "It's no big deal."

"It's your birthday, you're my friend. Yes it is a big deal," Yuri insisted. "Plus you did the same for my birthday."

"Okay fair point," Yuri could hear the slight smile in his tone. "How's your training been?"

"Beks," Yuri half whined. "It's your birthday and the only thing you have to talk about is training."

The two of them both laughed at that and then fell into easy conversation, something which Yuri was grateful for. Otabek was someone he could talk to without worrying about judgment. It was nice to have a friend like that.

Yuri got lost in conversation and didn't notice how fast time was slipping by. Without him realizing it, two hours had passed and he had begun to yawn every minute or so.

"Is the little tiger getting sleepy," Otabek teased.

"No, I'm perfectly awake," Yuri's protest was cut short by a yawn.

"You should get to bed Yuri," Otabek said. "We can talk again another day."

"Okay Beka," Yuri agreed. "Happy birthday again."

"Thanks soldier boy, go to sleep," Otabek hung up after that, probably because he knew Yuri wouldn't.

Yuri was tired though and not too long after the phone call ended he fell asleep.

He knew as soon as he woke up that it was well past the time he usually had to get up. The only reason he hadn't been yanked out of bed hours prior was because Lilia had given him the day off.

He checked the time and it was around two in the afternoon which caused him to rub his eyes and look at it again. He hadn't thought he had slept for that long, but apparently he had. He had a few messages so he checked them.

**Otabek** : Thanks for the birthday call Yura, it was nice to hear from you.   
**Yuri** : we should do that again soon

Yuri smiled at the familiar diminutive, Otabek didn't use it very frequently but he liked it when he did. It was a concrete show of their friendship. The other messages were all from Yuuri.

**Yuuri** : we got in late, hope you're okay at Lilia's   
**Yuuri** : Sorry, Victor is still sleeping, I don't want to wake him up. It might be a bit late when we come get you  
 **Yuuri** : I'll make sure we get there by 6:30, I'm making some food for us all to eat once we get you. Is that okay?  
 **Yuri** : okay, I'll be waiting for that old man to be productive

Yuri was moderately surprised that it was Victor who was sleeping late and not Yuuri, but he wasn't surprised that they weren't picking him up for another few hours. That gave him time to pack his bag, something he had been neglecting.

It turned out that he really did need that extra time to get his stuff together, he could barely find half his clothes which was almost impressive considering that he hadn't been staying there very long.

Yuri wasn't a very messy person most of the time. He tried to keep his stuff neat and out of the way, partially as a residual habit from when he was younger. Messiness was something he got punished for so he learned it was best to keep everything as tidy as possible. He wasn't the neatest person either though, especially if he was really tired at the time which is what he decided caused this mess.

It took him well over an hour to hunt down his belongings and get his bag ready to go. Somehow it seemed like everything he owned had tripled in volume since when it had been originally packed, he could hardly zip the bag shut and ended up sitting on it at one point. And that was with his skates taken out.

Finally, after fighting with the zipper for what felt like ages, the bag zipped shut. "I'm a champion athlete you know," he glared at the bag. "You will obey me." If inanimate objects could smirk he swore that bag was doing just that.

It wasn't too long before there was a knock on the door and he rushed to answer. "Katsudon, you're early," Yuri tried not to show how happy he was to see them.

"I said by 6:30 not at," Yuuri told him. "Now come on, Victor is impatient." As if to prove his point, Victor sounded the horn right then.

"Stupid old man," Yuri grumbled as he climbed into the back seat. "That took less than a minute, you moron."

"Nice to see you too Yurio," Victor was annoyingly chipper. Much too so to have been sleeping all day, Yuri furrowed his brow in suspicion.

"What's up with you?" He practically demanded. "Yuuri said you were sleeping all day. Wasn't he sleeping all day?"

"Yes, o-of course," Yuuri looked guilty. Very guilty. "I couldn't possible wake him earlier."

"I was very tired," Victor nodded as if to prove a point. He looked as if he had been up for hours.

"What is going on with you two?" Yuri looked at both of them accusingly.

"Nothing," they spoke at the exact same time.

They were definitely up to something. Now that Yuri thought about it, everyone had seemed a little bit strange recently. During Skate America Yakov kept exchanging looks with Victor and Yuuri. Since coming back it seemed as if Lilia had made it her personal goal to keep him distracted. They had all been acting different and Yuri was surprised he hadn't noticed before.

"Tell me what is happening!" Yuri kicked the seat in front of him. "You're acting weird. You've all been acting weird!"

"Yuri, calm down," Yuuri's expression was unreadable something that Yuri wasn't used to. "If you're concerned about something we can talk over dinner, I made piroshki. It'll be ready when we get home."

"It's not my home," Yuri glared at both of them once again. "I don't have a home," this part he added under his breath only to himself.

"Yurio, you don't have to act like you don't live there as well," Victor told him. "Even if you do insist upon being called a guest, it's been quite some time."

Yuri didn't say anything else until they arrived at Victors, he was almost afraid too. Something in Victor's tone had scared him. It sounded like he was tired of having him around, maybe that's why everyone had been acting strange. They were going to kick him out.

"Put your bag in with the laundry," Yuuri told him. "I'll be washing a couple loads later, so you might as well add yours to the mix."

Yuri nodded and did as he was asked, taking care to assure all his clothes made it into the laundry basket in the room. His movements were mechanical and he soon sat down at the kitchen counter, his entire body stiff.

"Here you go Yuri," a plate of piroshki was pushed in front of him by Yuuri who seemed rather nervous. "Eat up."

Yuri found that it was hard to eat the meal for once despite it being one of his absolute favorite foods. After all it was hard to swallow when there's an awful lump in his throat. He could see the strange glances Victor and Yuuri exchanged and his heart sank even more.

He didn't know why they even bothered picking him up from Lilia's since they were just going to tell him he couldn't stay with them any longer. Probably some desire to watch him be miserable he decided. Why else would they do that to him.

He thought they had understood him but he must have been wrong about that. It was really all his fault for getting attached, they'd just laugh at him over all of this. He had been stupid and let them in and that's why they didn't want him around anymore. He just didn't know where he would go this time.

Somehow he managed to finish his food and put his plate in the dishwasher. "Hey Yura," Yuuri smiled at him. "Would you like some ice cream? We have cookie dough, I know you like that flavor."

That stung more than anything. The use of the diminutive, the offering of one of his favorite treats. It just made what he knew was to come all the worse. Because of course Yuuri would be nice about it, of course Yuuri would be like this. They'd kick him to the side and he wouldn't even be able to be upset about it. He was so pathetic. "Not really," Yuri shook his head, he wouldn't allow their kindnesses right now.

"We even bought waffle cones, just like you prefer," Victor grinned that stupid heart shaped smile of his. It made Yuri want to punch something. How could they be acting like this when they were about to get rid of him.

"Okay fine then," Yuri couldn't protest any longer, he might as well let them enjoy this.

Yuuri and Victor shared another one of their unreadable looks as they scooped ice cream for all three of them. "Come sit out here with us," Yuuri said as he handed him his cone.

Yuri couldn't find a reason to say no so he took a seat on one of the chairs while Victor and Yuuri took the couch. He sat as if he was afraid of breaking the chair, as if the mere weight of his presence would ruin everything.

He was mostly done with his cone when Victor and Yuuri acknowledged him again. "We have something we need to talk to you about," Victor said. Yuri froze, this was it.

"A few things actually," Yuuri glanced at Victor before moving to Yuri. "It's kind of important."

Yuri nodded, he felt the back of his eyes start to prickle but he wasn't going to cry. He refused to cry.

"I'm sure you've noticed by now that we've been keeping stuff from you," Victor started. "All of us that is, Yakov and Lilia and the both of us."

"It's been for your own good though," Yuuri added. "We didn't want you worrying about this stuff."

Yuuri and Victor both fell silent for a bit and Yuri had a feeling they were having a silent conversation. "There were a lot of technicalities to work out concerning this," Victor finally spoke again. "I'm sure you've noticed some of this going on. And well...you've been staying here for quite some time."

Yuri stopped hearing after that, their words became a faint buzz in the background and he bit his lip to stop the tears from falling. They really were getting rid of him, they really didn't want him around anymore. He couldn't sit around and listen to this anymore. He didn't know what he was supposed to do now. They had promised him he was okay with them. He should've expected this, Victor never kept his promises.

"Yuri?" Yuuri's voice cut through his thoughts. "Are you paying attention? This is important."

"Stop skirting around it," Yuri's voice wavered. "I know what this is about just get to the point."

"You do?" Now Victor seemed confused.

"Yes," he hissed, dangerously close to crying now. "You're kicking me out. You don't want me here anymore and you've all been conspiring behind my back to figure out the best way to get rid of me. I'm sorry to have been such a burden on you. I'll leave," he wanted to sound angry at them but really he was just upset at himself.

Victor and Yuuri had yet another wordless conversation. This one lasting much longer than the others.

"Yuri," Victors tone was unreadable. "Go to your room."

Yuri looked away from them. "You mean the guest room," he tried to make it come out venomous but choked on a sob halfway through.

"Yuri, just go," Victor's voice was softer this time but still unreadable.

Yuri hung his head and walked that way. He supposed it was for the best, he'd pack up his bags and be ready to leave in the morning. He would find a place to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter isn't up to par but I was busy this week with a couple essays so it is what it is. It was actually supposed to be longer but I decided this was a good place to stop. The other scenes I had in mind work better as a separate chapter anyway. Hopefully this was okay. 
> 
> Feedback makes me a happy happy human. Literally any feedback. Is it good is it bad what do you think is going on. Anything


	12. Of Surprises and Midnight Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri is sad (when is he not my poor child) and dysphoric

When he got to the door he was slightly confused, there appeared to be a sign hung on it but he couldn't read it because his eyes had filled with tears during the time it took him to walk over. He pushed open the door and tried not to cry when he heard the familiar squeak of it.

This place had been the closest thing he'd had to a home since he was little and living with his grandfather, and now he had to leave. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay here longer even though the other two were ridiculous old saps. Even though they were nagging and made him do stuff he didn't enjoy like cleaning the bathroom and walking the dog sometimes. He thought they had cared about him, but now he knew better.

Nobody ever cared about him for long. The only exception to that was his grandfather, but he was an old man and lived far away. He was just going to have to find an apartment or go back to staying with Lilia, though since she was in on all of this, she probably wouldn't want him either. And if that didn't work out he supposed he could go to Mila, she was usually nice to him so maybe that was a possibility.

It hurt though knowing that he wasn't wanted in the place he felt most comfortable. He didn't know what he would do without the soothing touches on his shoulders or the gentle reminders to take his binder off. He didn't know who else would bring him a heating pad and chocolate when his cramps were at their worst or who would brush his hair out of his eyes and hold him while he cried.

He had finally grown comfortable enough around them to allow himself to show weakness and now they were throwing him away just like everyone else did. This time he didn't stop the tears that flowed down his cheeks as he stood in the darkness of the guest room.

Crying was different this time. In the past when he had cried in this room, he had had people just outside waiting to comfort him when he was ready. But now he was crying because he had lost that. He had lost everyone who cared about him one by one. So he cried.

He cried over every time he had ever been forgotten or thrown away. Over every  person who had ever told him he was worthless. He cried because he believed all of that too. And finally he cried because there was nobody who cared about him. Nobody who loved him. Everyone would leave sooner or later and it had only been a matter of time before this had happened.

Once he no longer had anything left to cry about the tears slowly trickled to a halt and he sniffled. Crying hadn't done anything to help him feel better but in a way he felt lighter after letting the tears fall. He sat in the darkness of the room leaned against the door until the tear tracks on his cheeks dried and his hiccups subsided. He could hear the tv on in the other room and low mumbling voices through the door now that he had stopped. It was only then that he stood up and turned the light on only to promptly turn it off again.

His eyes certainly weren't telling him the truth. He flicked the light on and off three more times and then pinched himself. It hurt so this had to be real. He turned the light on once again and opened the door just for a few seconds.

He most definitely had seen a sign on the door earlier. He looked at it and actually saw it this time. It wasn't an over the top decoration or anything too fancy. It was simply a sign. A sign that read 'Yuri.' He closed the door behind him again and took in the room around him. Once again tears sprung to his eyes, but for an entirely different reason.

The room had been rearranged slightly. The bed had been moved closer to a corner and there was now a bookshelf and a desk in what used to be empty space. The walls which had been a nondescript off-white were now a shade of light teal. A curtain rod had been hung over the windows and a set of leopard print curtains hung from it.

There were posters on the walls that could have only come from his room back at his grandfather's as well as a small pile of cat plushies he had kept over the years. Upon closer inspection, all of the books on the shelf were ones he had owned. The bedspread had even been changed out for a soft green one that he loved.

He walked around the room—his room—a few times and allowed his fingers to trail over everything in a manner that was almost reverent. This is what they had been so secretive about. They weren't kicking him out after all.

Upon that realization he simultaneously felt really happy and terrible. He was overjoyed that he could stay. But what would they think. The first thing he had done was accuse them of wanting to be rid of him when in reality they had been hiding this from him.

He felt foolish. He hadn't thought for even a second that they would've been hiding something like this. No, he automatically jumped to the worst possible thing and dwelled on that. He didn't know if he could go back out there and face them after having yelled at them like he did.

It turned out he didn't have to because soon enough there came a knock at the door, at his door. "Yuri, can we come in?" Yuuri asked, his voice drenched in concern.

Yuri didn't trust himself to speak so he merely opened the door as an answer, his face turned away in shame. He walked to his bed and sat down without looking at either of them.

"We're sorry Yuri," it was Victor who knelt down to be in his line of view and set a hand on his knee. Yuri didn't pull away from the touch. "I'm sorry, I should have been more careful about my wording."

Yuuri took a seat next to him on the bed. "Am I allowed to touch you or do you not want contact?" He asked. Yuri nodded and bumped Yuuri's arm with his elbow to say yes. Yuuri wrapped his arm around Yuri's shoulders and pulled him to his side. "We aren't upset with you for taking this the wrong way," he told him.

"We should have been upfront about this, but we wanted to surprise you," Victor gave a weak smile. "I'm so sorry you thought our actions meant we didn't want you here."

"We'll always want you here," Yuuri added. "You're part of what makes this place home and I hope you can consider it your home too. I know you might have difficulty accepting this because of your past, but we are here for you and we do want you here."

Yuri didn't know what to say. He didn't think there were words to express what he was feeling in the moment. There weren't enough words in English or Russian to get what he wished he could say across. "Thank you," is what he eventually settled on. _Thank you for caring, thank you for having me here, thank you for staying by me, thank you for everything_. 

They sat in silence for a while after that, none of them wanting to be the first to break the fragile air around them. It was a comfortable silence, one filled with unspoken understanding.

Victor was the one who ended up breaking it. "So do you like it?" He gestured to the room with a smile.

"I...yes," Yuri found himself mirroring Victor's grin. "How did you manage this?"

"We've been in contact with your grandfather," Yuuri told him. "For many reasons actually. As soon as you left for your flight, we got in the car and drove to Moscow."

"Your grandfather was very happy to supply us with all this. He thought it wonderful that we're taking care of you," Victor said. "He told us 'You take good care of my Yurochka, he's a good boy.'"

"You drove all the way to Moscow just to pick up some of my stuff?" Yuri asked. He almost couldn't believe that of them but the items in his room were proof.

"Well, not only for that," Yuuri said. "But that's all that matters now."

Yuri had a feeling he would find out the other reasons later on. "Thank you," he said again. "I'm sorry for acting how I did. I just thought..."

"We know Yuri," Victor stopped him from continuing. "Nikolai told us everything."

"You aren't going to be thrown to the side like that ever again," Yuuri's voice was determined. "I promise you. We will always be here for you no matter what. You can't do anything to make us stop caring."

"We wanted you to feel at home here," Victor said. "You don't need to apologize for thinking we might not want you here. Just remember that we do."

Yuri nodded and smiled a bit more. "It means a lot to me," he admitted. "Um, could I....could I get a hug?" He looked away as he asked the question as if he thought they'd say no.

Immediately he was squished between the two of them and they didn't let go for a while. "Are you okay now?" Yuuri asked once they had let him go once again.

"I need some time to process," Yuri said. "But I think I will be."

"Alright, well we will see in the morning kotenok," Victor ruffled his hair. "Gotta start getting ready for France."

"I'll kick your ass Nikiforov," Yuri growled as the other two left his room.

He had several emotions swirling through his head now. It had been a lot to take in all at once and he still couldn't exactly believe it. They had gone to Moscow and picked up some of his old stuff, they had painted their guest room. They had done it all for him.

The only person in his life who had ever done stuff for him without expecting something in return was his grandfather. So this was strange having Victor and Yuuri doing it for him. After all, he was just some angry kid who made their lives difficult from time to time. And they were, well they were fully grown adults with their own cares and worries in life. Why would they bother to care about him?

It was a comfort to know that he had a solid place to stay at night now. To not have to worry about being bounced from place to place. He had somewhere to stay and people to look after him. He wanted to consider this place home, it already felt more like home to him than his parents house did.

He changed into a pair pajamas and crawled into bed. It was wonderfully familiar and comfortable and he relished the feeling of it. There was nothing better than getting to sleep in the bed he had come to think of as his after a couple weeks of sleeping elsewhere. But despite this familiarity, he just couldn't fall asleep.

After staring up at the ceiling for a few hours he gave up on trying to sleep, his mind was overloaded and he didn't know what to do about it. To make matters worse the back of his throat was painfully dry and was pretty sure he was dehydrated from all the crying he had done earlier.

He eventually decided to slip out into the kitchen and grab himself a glass of water. "Can't sleep?" He startled at the voice and jumped, bumping his hip on the counter in the process.

"No," Yuri shook his head, rubbing at the spot that would likely be a bruise in the morning.

"Me neither," Yuuri told him. "My body still doesn't know what time it is."

"I don't know why I'm still up," Yuri mumbled. "I just want some water."

"Would you like me to make you some tea?" Yuuri offered. "Sometimes that helps me when I can't sleep."

Yuri thought about it before nodding. "Yes please, that sounds nice."

Yuuri went about making the tea rather happily, humming quietly as he did so. "How do you like it again?" He asked once it was ready.

"Same amount of milk you put in yours, two less spoonfuls of sugar," Yuri answered. He had seen both Victor and Yuuri prepare their drinks often enough to know how his compared. "Here you go," a warm mug was soon pressed into his hands.

Yuri accepted it with a grateful nod and slowly sipped at the warm liquid. It must have been a superpower of sorts, but the older man always made the tea to exactly the right temperature, not hot enough to burn his mouth but warm enough that it wouldn't grow cold too soon.

"What's on your mind?" Yuuri asked him once he was about halfway through the drink.

"I don't know," Yuri sighed. "Everything."

"It's a lot to take in isn't it?" Yuuri smiled at him with an expression he couldn't read. "It's okay to be confused."

"I think you're right," he was quiet for a few moments. "I am confused. Really confused, I don't understand any of this."

"You don't have to," Yuuri assured him. "It makes sense that you have trouble comprehending all of this."

Yuri nodded. "When you talked to my dedushka," he hesitated. "What all did he tell you? About when I was little."

"He said that you had a rough childhood," Yuuri told him. "He said that your mother cared more about her image and how you contributed to that than she did about you and that your father followed everything she did. He said that he wished he had noticed sooner how they treated you more as an accessory than a child."

"Yeah," Yuri looked down. "I guess they did. What else did he say?"

"He said that you were an amazing child," Yuuri smiled at him. "That you did wonderful in school and loved the ice even then. He was very proud of you. And he said that one night your parents brought you to him very late with a bag shoved full of clothing," he frowned at this. "And your hair roughly chopped to just above your ears. He said his heart broke for you in that moment, but he looked in your eyes and instead of seeing a scared little kid, he saw somebody who was going to fight someone who wouldn't let themselves be held back."

"Did he really?" Yuri asked. He found that hard to believe.

"Yes he did. He cares about you very much and he is more than happy to allow Victor and I to care for you since he can't," Yuuri nodded. "He sounds like he's been a great influence in your life."

"He was the only one who accepted me," Yuri admitted. "My parents didn't want me to be a boy, so they dumped me off at his house and never came back for me."

"I know Yura," Yuuri sounded sad about that. "I'm sorry they couldn't accept you, they would have had a wonderful son."

"You're lucky," Yuri found himself saying. "Your parents are great people, they care about you no matter what." He knew he sounded bitter about that, but he had seen the way Yuuri's parents treated him. He hadn't known at the time, but looking back on it it was obvious.

"I am lucky," Yuuri agreed with a nod. "They were confused about it at first, we lived in a small town. Something like that was practically unheard of. But you've met my parents."

"They care about you too much to have been upset about it," he definitely sounded bitter now.

"At first they thought they had done something wrong," Yuuri said with a small smile as if he were remembering it. "But they were open about it and did some research. They weren't very good about it for a while. It was Mari who made them really accept it I think. One day she just marched up to them and said 'Airi says she's a boy and wants to be called Yuuri. Airi isn't happy or fun to play with, Yuuri is happy. He thinks you're upset that he's a boy. I want a happy little brother not an unhappy sister.'" Yuuri chuckled softly. "She wasn't going to let them get away with not accepting it."

"She was very nice," Yuri said, remembering his interactions with her. "She knew about me being like this," he admitted. "She walked in on me when I was taking a bath by accident. Had to restock the towels and thought it was empty. I think she saw how scared I was because she didn't say a word."

"Sounds like her," Yuuri smiled. "She was very supportive of me every step of the way. I was very lucky."

"Yeah," Yuri sighed. "I don't think anybody will ever care about me that much."

At that, Yuuri placed a hand on Yuri's shoulder. "I care about you that much," his voice was sincere. "Victor does too though he has a strange way of showing it sometimes. I've said this time and time again and I'll say it as many times as necessary: you're not alone."

Yuri slumped his shoulders and looked away. "But I feel alone," he muttered. "I don't know where I'm supposed to go when I'm upset or scared. I don't know who I can talk to when I need advice. I'm utterly alone when it comes to that."

"No. You're not alone," Yuuri repeated. "You have me, you have Victor, you have everyone else at the rink. Come to me when you're upset or worried or scared. When you're happy and on top of the world. Whatever it is that you're feeling, I'm here to listen. I'm here for you. And I promise you that I always will be."

Yuri didn't know how to respond, what would he even say to something like that. He had always kept his troubles to himself. "I don't believe you," he finally said. "Nobody could care about me that much."

"I guess I'm nobody then," Yuuri stated. "Because I do. I just want to see you happy again Yura, you've been so upset lately. Victor and I are worried about you."

"I'm fine," the words came out harsher than he intended. "I don't need someone to pity me."

"This has never been and never will be pity," Yuuri insisted. "I want to see you smile again. A real smile not that fake one you've been plastering on recently."

Yuri looked away again, he hated how well the other man could read him. "I'll try," he said. "I don't like feeling this way either." He yawned after that statement. The cup of tea had worked to make him sleepy.

"I'm glad you'll try, you can come to me any time," Yuuri smiled at him. "Now you should get to bed, practice tomorrow."

"I don't wanna be alone," Yuri whispered, a fear of sorts tracing into his words. This would all cease to be real once he walked away again.

"You don't have to be," Yuuri told him. "If you would like, you can spend the night in my room with Victor and I. There's room for you."

"No," he shook his head. "I wanna stay in the guest-my room."

"Would you like me to come lie down with you for a while," Yuuri offered. "My parents would do the same for me when I was younger."

"I...that sounds," Yuri didn't know how to answer that. "Would you?"

"Of course I will," Yuuri helped him up from the stool and walked him towards his room. "If you ever need somebody with you it's okay to ask."

Yuri nodded and climbed into bed, appreciating the way Yuuri tucked the blankets in around him before settling into the empty space next to him. "You're going to be okay Yuri," Yuuri's voice was soothing. "I promise you."

With the comforting presence next to him and the soothing words being whispered to him, Yuri quickly dropped into sleep. It was as if that was exactly what he needed to sleep. It was a deep heavy sleep, something he had needed for a while now.

When he woke up in the morning, Yuuri was gone but he didn't feel as alone as he usually did. On the contrary he felt welcomed and safe for once.

"Yurio!" Victor poked his head into the doorframe. "We have breakfast ready and we're leaving to practice in half an hour, you gotta get up."

It took Yuri a minute to remember everything that had happened the day before, but he smiled slightly when he saw the walls of his room. His room, he liked the sound of that.

"What's for breakfast?" He asked as he came into kitchen. Having changed into a set of workout clothes and pulling his hair into a ponytail.

"Eggs and a smoothie," Yuuri answered. "Eat up before yours get cold."

Yuri had hardly sat down before having a plate shoved in front of him and a fork jammed into his hand. A few seconds later a cup was also placed in front of him. "What's in the smoothie today?"

"Some of that protein mix, the flavorless one. Strawberry and peach for the most part," Victor told him. "Should be to your liking."

"Did you put banana in it?" He eyed the glass suspiciously. "You know I hate banana in my smoothie."

"Yuri, you hate banana in smoothies, you despise mustard on your sandwiches, you would solely survive off of katsudon and piroshki if you could, you prefer your eggs scrambled, and you don't like bacon but you'll eat it," Yuuri rattled off. "We know your eating habits, he didn't put banana in it."

Yuri was surprised at the accuracy of that list. He would fuss about food sometimes but until recently he would pretty much eat anything they made him without complaint, even if he hated it. So for them to have noticed what he didn't like was touching in a way. He ate quickly after that because he really didn't want his eggs to go cold, nobody likes cold eggs.

"You can either train with Lilia today or you can train with Yuuri and I," Victor told him. "Since Yakov isn't in town he asked that I oversee your skating."

"I want to skate," Yuri said immediately. He had been mostly practicing ballet the past week and was itching to get back on the ice. "Not that you'll be able to help me old man."

"Well then go grab your skates," Yuuri told him. "We'll let Lilia know you're practicing with us today."

Yuri didn't need to be told twice, he practically flew out of his seat once he finished eating and ran to grab the bag he kept his skates in. "Alright let's go!" He bounced up and down in impatience as the other two got ready to leave as well.

They all did their warm up stretches together upon arriving at the rink and after skating a few laps, they began practicing. "Yuuri, could you help Yurio with his step sequences? The ones near the end of both his programs could use a lot of work."

"My step sequences are fine old man," Yuri yelled at him, but he accepted Yuuri's help anyway. They looked so much better when it was the Japanese skater running through them and not himself.

"You focus almost entirely on the technical aspects," Yuuri commented. "You need to worry more about performance. The technical stuff is all muscle memory, that doesn't require anything from you. You can skate a perfect program and still not medal if you don't put feeling in it."

"I did put feeling into it though," Yuri frowned. "My free skate was all feeling it's just missing something and I don't know what. You're a lot better at this than I am."

"I always make up a story for my programs," Yuuri told him. "It's much easier to skate to a story. And this time around it's something real which makes it even more so."

Yuri nodded and went back to his footwork. His technical was always the highest part of his overall score whereas for Yuuri it was the opposite and Victor was usually balanced between the two components.

He ran through step sequences and spins all the way up until they stopped for lunch and fully intended to keep working on that for the rest of practice. Victor had another idea though. "You've been off the ice for a week now Yuri, you need to work on your jumps," he stated. "Actually, we'll all do that. Jumping match to the death."

"Vitya are you sure about that?" Yuuri sounded strange.

"Absolutely," Victor grinned his trademark grin. "You need to work on your quads especially," he addressed that stemmed to Yuri. "You too actually, clean up your salchow if you can and reign in on your flip, you're too inconsistent with your landing."

"And what are you gonna work on?" Yuri raised an eyebrow. "You're doing this too old man."

"We all are," Victor nodded. "Last man standing chooses dinner tonight."

Both Yuri and Yuuri blinked at him at that statement. They all already knew who would win this. "Okay," Victor merely smiled at them. "On my mark. Go!"

It turned out to be a rather enjoyable game albeit an exhausting one. Yuri started out with singles and doubles to re-accustom himself to the feeling and soon was jumping triples. In order to not stress his body too much, he tried to separate out his quads with a few doubles between them.

Every so often he'd hear a thud and turn to see one of the others, usually Yuuri, on the ice. He himself fell a few times which was to be expected as he body tired out. He only flubbed his quad salchow once which he was rather proud of and he managed to land his quad toe loop which was easily his weakest jump a few times.

After probably an hour he couldn't go on any longer, his body was aching and he left the ice only to slump down on a bench next to Victor who had sat down a few minutes prior. Yuuri was still going strong.

"How is he not dead?" Yuri grumbled. "He should be exhausted now."

"He's beautiful," Victor whispered. "I get to see this side of him everyday. I'm a lucky man."

"You're a sap," Yuri jabbed him with his elbow. "I can't believe I'm stuck with you two."

"You aren't stuck with us," Victor said. "We let you pick where to stay. It was your choice."

"Nope," Yuri popped the p. "I'm stuck with you," it may have been his choice originally but he didn't have to acknowledge that.

"We aren't so bad are we?" Victor asked.

"Terrible really," Yuri teased. "You get up obnoxiously early and are loud about it. You're an insufferable dog person. And you can't stop making goo-goo eyes at Katsudon. It's disgusting really."

"We're glad to have you too," Victor smiled.

It was then that Yuuri joined them off the ice, panting slightly. "Since you two are done it looks like I won your little bet. You're cooking tonight Vitya."

"Only if Yurio helps," Victor stated. "He lost too."

"Ugh," Yuri huffed. "I didn't agree on this damn bet of yours. Why do I have to help?"

"You don't if you don't want to," Yuuri quickly assured him.

"No," Yuri crossed his arms. "I'm helping."

And that's how he once again found himself wearing a kitten apron covered head to toe in flour. How Victor had managed to do this this time was beyond him. "Fuck you old man, are you trying to ruin everything?" He screeched. "I have my binder on idiot. This is never going to come out." He had started to feel really dysphoric around the time they got back and since he hadn't worn it all day he put it on. Something he was mildly regretting right now.

"Ah, sorry Yuri," Victor sheepish. "I didn't mean to."

"There is flour in my hair and in my binder and ugh," Yuri glowered at him.

The entire kitchen was a mess. There wasn't a single surface that wasn't covered in some substance. It wasn't that Victor and Yuri couldn't cook, it was more like they weren't used to doing so without Yuuri helping them. It was a disaster without him.

Yuuri had drawn himself a bath while Victor and Yuri were cooking and now they had to scramble to clean up before he came back out. "If Katsudon doesn't kill you for this I will," Yuri hissed as he attempted to sweep the floor. It turns out flour was more apt to spread out than to allow itself to be cleaned.

"I am a failure of a fiancé," Victor muttered to himself as he tried to salvage their dinner something he was greatly failing at. "Yuri, check the fridge and see if we can make something else."

The fridge was mostly empty. "You need to go shopping, there's practically nothing in here," Yuri informed him.

"What are we gonna do now," Victor frowned. "He'll be out any second now."

A burst of laughter drew both their attentions. "I've been out here for long enough," Yuuri laughed. "You two go clean yourselves up, I'll take care of this. We can order delivery if you want. That one Chinese place is always fast."

"Yes do that," Yuri pulled apron off and headed to the bathroom immediately. He did not want flour in his hair a second longer and his binder was itching.

"Stupid Victor," he grumbled as he undressed, lip curling at the sight of his body. "Stupid stupid body."

He was harsh about cleaning himself off. Practically rubbing his skin raw with the bar of soap, his eyes squeezed shut as if he was hoping it would be gone when he opened them. Of course that's not how it worked, all he got out of his efforts was bright pink skin that was sore to the touch.

"Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid," he glared at his body. "Why won't you stop this?" His hips curved too much, his face was too soft, he wasn't tall enough, and his chest just had to be the way it was. There was only so much that could be hidden underneath layers of clothing and anger.

He dried himself off quickly and threw on a set of pajamas without looking at himself. He wanted to put his binder back on but his skin was wet and it was dirty so that wasn't going to happen. He carried it out with him to the kitchen.

"You boys always make such messes," Yuuri smiled at him when he saw him. He had the kitchen almost completely clean by then. "You okay?" His voice filled with concern upon seeing Yuri's expression.

"This needs to be cleaned," Yuri held out his binder to him. "You're better at it than I am, could you please take care of it?"

Yuuri took it and looked it over. "I'll wash it out tonight so it'll be dry but tomorrow afternoon," he told him. "This one is just about worn out, we'll have to get you a new one soon."

Yuri knew that. He had been needing a new one for a while but hadn't dared ask if he could order one. "Yeah, it doesn't get me very flat anymore."

"It's better than nothing though," Yuuri said to which he nodded his agreement. "I'm sure this'll be fun to wash out though. Flour is pretty messy. I got glitter on mine once and it can't be worse than that." Yuuri shuddered at the memory.

"How did that happen?" Yuri asked in interest. He knew that some skating costumes had glitter on them but that was always on the outside part.

"Phichit," was Yuuri's answer. "Completely his fault."

"What did he do to cause that though?" Yuri asked.

"He had a big make up phase back in college," Yuuri told him. "Always had some new thing to try out. He liked shiny things. Long story short, he ended up spilling a good portion of a glitter tube on me while we were getting ready for something. And of course I was only wearing my binder and boxers at the time so that went as well as you would expect."

"How long did that take to come out?" Yuri laughed at the image of the Japanese man being coated in glitter.

"It didn't," Yuuri lamented. "Phichit deemed it my party binder after that. Luckily I owned more than one."

"That's really funny," Yuri laughed for a bit longer before his face fell and he sighed.

"You never did tell me if you were okay," Yuuri told him. "You just handed me your binder. What's going on?"

"I hate this stupid body," Yuri spat. "It's holding me back and it's wrong. It curves too much and my voice is too high and everything about it is terrible. And I can't even wear the one thing that helps right now."

"Well is there anything you can think of that might help alleviate it?" Yuuri asked.

"No," he said miserably. "I usually wear my binder when it's bad but I can't."

"I've got an idea, I'll be right back," Yuuri disappeared into his room.

Yuri spent the few minutes the other man was gone shifting around and trying to find a position that he couldn't see the curve of any part of his body in. It wasn't much help at all.

Yuuri came out a few minutes later holding a light blue shirt. "I know this isn't going to be the biggest help, but it's something at least. It's something I wear when I'm feeling dysphoric, maybe it'll help you."

The shirt was a couple sizes too big for him but it was soft and well worn. It read in bold letters 'PRETTY BOY' on the front. Yuri smiled weakly.

"You don't have to wear it if you don't want," Yuuri smiled back. "It was just a thought."

"I will," Yuri said. "But I'm not going back to my room to do so. Close your eyes."

Yuuri turned around and Yuri quickly switched out the shirt he was wearing for the one he had been handed. It had the feel of a garment that had been well loved and that in itself was a comfort. "Okay you're good now," Yuri said, his hands tugging at the bottom of the shirt. "It's really comfortable."

"Phichit bought it for me when I came out to him," Yuuri smiled. "He said it was good reminder of what I am, same goes for you."

Any reply of Yuri's was cut off by the doorbell ringing. "Do you wanna answer that?" Yuuri asked. "It should be the food, I'll go drag Victor out of the shower."

Yuri nodded and rushed over to the door, he was hungry and he didn't want to keep the delivery person waiting any longer. "Thank you," he smiled as he accepted the two bags of food.

"No problem miss," the delivery person smiled, their eyes catching on Yuri's shirt. "I'm sorry sir. I just need you to sign this."

Yuri smiled to himself upon being called sir and scribbled his name on the proffered receipt. "Have a nice night," the delivery person walked off.

"Would you two geezers hurry up," Yuri shouted after setting the food on the counter. "I'm hungry." He got our plates for all them and tapped his foot up and down. "If you're not out here in two minutes I'm helping myself," he yelled. "And I will take the best for myself."

He timed it. They came out into the kitchen with exactly ten seconds to spare. "Someone's grumpy," Victor teased.

"Well you were the one who spent hours in the shower," Yuri exaggerated. "Good thing I took one before you or you would've used all of the hot water."

"He has a point," Yuuri shot Victor a look. "You can't take up all the hot water anymore. You've got two other people living with you."

Victor paid them no mind as he was busy filling his plate with food. "Come on you two. It's vkusno!"

Yuri rolled his eyes but grabbed himself a plate as well. He had built up quite an appetite at practice so this meal was well deserved. It took two full portions before his was satisfied.

"Ah, a growing boy," Victor smiled at him. "I remember when I ate like that."

"You still do," Yuri pointed out, gesturing to the third helping Victor currently had on his plate. "And I'm not a growing boy, I'm not even a real b-"

"They grow up so fast," Yuuri cut him off. "And he's become so handsome Vitya. Turning heads left and right."

"Shut up," Yuri mumbled. He knew what they were doing and he was grateful for it.

"Such a strong boy," Victor continued. "And he always eats his vegetables. Very popular with the youngins today, you're right about him turning heads."

"I said stop it," Yuri protested weakly.

They took that as a sign to continue and inundated him with compliments about how handsome he was and how he was a great boy. And on and on.

Yuri would be lying if he said he didn't have a genuine smile on his face after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an easy chapter to write. I hope it's good and you like it. I wrote this instead of studying today, oops. Do not get flour or glitter on a binder unless you want to suffer. I'll be skipping to the Trophée de France in the next chapter most likely, I don't really have anything planned in between. 
> 
> It is I your local feedback gremlin.


	13. Of Friendship and Free Dessert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ship Yuri with friendship and support

"Are you going to tell him or not?"

"Not right before competition, it'll throw him off."

"We can't keep secrets from him like this, he's not a little kid anymore."

"Give it a few days, I'll let him know them."

The sounds of arguing in the row behind him woke Yuri up. Training the past week had been harsh and he was catching up on some much needed sleep on the way to Paris for the Trophée de France, he was not happy to be woken up.

"Tell who what?" Yuri grumbled, turning to glare at Yakov and Victor who were seated behind him.

"It's not important," Yakov barked. "Get back to sleep boy. I expect two medals by the end of this weekend."

"Victor isn't sleeping," Yuri pointed out, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Go to sleep Vitya," Yakov ordered. "Neither of you speak another word until we land, I knew I should have sat far away from you."

Yuri didn't bother getting upset at being told what to do especially since he really was tired. He made a show out of yawning and leaning his head against Yuuri's shoulder, the latter of which was mostly to spite Victor who had loudly complained and then pouted about the seating arrangements. He was just jealous that Yuuri had chosen to sit next to him and not Victor.

Yuuri made for a comfortable person to lean against anyway so he was definitely rubbing it in to Victor. He pretended not to notice the playful jostle Victor gave the back of his seat.

Thankfully it wasn't a very long flight and he didn't have to worry about major jet lag at all. Though he knew significantly less French than he did English. And by significantly he was fluent in one and knew a handful of curses in the other.

Since it was only a two hour time difference they had only arrived with one day before competition was to start. Instead of coming almost a week prior like they did for America.

Yuri slept through the rest of the flight and felt rather energetic upon arriving at the hotel. "What's on your agenda Yakov?" He asked. "I don't want to just sit around tonight and it's barely noon."

"In bed by 9:30, at the rink tomorrow at 8," Yakov looked at both him and Victor, though Yuri thought the look he gave Victor had more of a threat in it.

"Great!" Yuri snatched his card from Yakov and made to run off to his room and dump his stuff so he could go enjoy himself.

"Hey Yura," Yuuri caught his arm before he got too far. "We're going sightseeing if you'd like to join."

"Go sightseeing?! With you two. In Paris?!" Yuri wrinkled his face in disgust. "Absolutely not."

"Well you have fun by yourself then," Victor ruffled his hair. "Feel free to contact one of us if you need to." And just like that the two of them walked off hand in hand.

"As if I'd need your help," Yuri stuck his tongue out at their retreating forms. He had managed to get around by himself before in foreign countries so he could do it here.

He most definitely could not do it here. He had dumped his bag in his room and grabbed a map printed in English before heading out. He did fine at first but after a while he found himself stranded on some street corner somewhere unable to figure out where that was and to make matters worse, his phone had died.

"Stupid fucking France," he grumbled. "Stupid fucking French. Fuck this country and their fucking tower and their fucking fuck," he had switched to Russian halfway through. There was nothing like screaming swear words in his native language and watching passersby skitter off in fear.

He figured his best bet was to get back to a street he could find on the map so he headed off in the direction of the Eiffel Tower, it was tall enough that he could see it from where he was. Between glancing up at the tower and down at the map, he did a rather poor job of watching where he was going. He squeaked out a few "Pardons" after bumping shoulders with more than one person. He was mostly sure that was the right word in French.

"Pas de problème," a slightly familiar voice said back after he had slammed straight into the person. "Chaton?" The person asked. Yuri glanced upwards and frowned.

"What are you doing here?" Yuri demanded.

"I...er. Give me a sec," JJ seemed speechless for once, it was a few seconds before he spoke. "Ah, that's better. Sorry Yuri."

"Why are you apologizing?" Yuri glowered at him. "I ran into you."

"I was in your way," JJ shrugged. "You never answered my texts Yuri."

"My phone is dead," Yuri spat, JJ was not someone he would have wanted to run into.

"Oh, here," JJ held something out to him. "Is my portable charge. You should probably make sure your coach isn't freaking out about your whereabouts."

Yuri nodded his gratitude and plugged his phone in. After waiting the few minutes it took to turn on he unlocked it to check his messages. The only ones he had were from JJ himself.

 **JJ** : are you in Paris yet? i want to talk to you  
**JJ** : let me treat you to dinner, i owe you an apology  
**JJ** : i saw Victor and katsuki, are you ignoring me?

Yuri glanced up at JJ after reading the messages. "What do you want?"

"I owe you an apology," JJ stated. "Like I said. Will you let me buy you a meal?"

"Shouldn't you be off with your fiancée somewhere?" Yuri crossed his arms. "This is Paris after all."

"I'm only here with my parents," JJ said. "And that didn't answer my question."

"Fine," Yuri huffed. "As long as you don't try poisoning me or anything. And you're not allowed to get lost."

"Je parle français, Yuri," JJ smirked at him. "Unlike you, I can read the street signs."

"Insufferable idiot," Yuri said loudly enough that the Canadian could here.

"You pronounced king wrong," JJ said without missing a beat. "Now come on, lets go get food. I'm hungry."

It turns out having someone who was fluent in French being the one to navigate made get around ten thousand times easier. It certainly made the locals much more apt to provide assistance. Yuri did not, however, appreciate JJ having to read the dinner menu out to him as if he were a little kid.

"You know what just get me some chicken alfredo if they have it," Yuri insisted after a couple minutes of JJ translating for him. "This is ridiculous."

"Whatever you say chaton," JJ closed the menu at his comment. "I'll order that for both of us."

Yuri stared at his lap the entire time JJ was ordering, he was afraid that if he made eye contact with anyone else they would try speaking to him and he really didn't have the ability to reply. Once the waiter had been gone for a while Yuri looked back up. "What did you want to talk to about?" He asked.

JJ held up a finger as if telling Yuri to wait. It was a few minutes before he spoke. "Sorry," he said. "I have trouble switching between languages. It takes my brain a bit to catch on to what I want."

"Makes sense," Yuri shrugged, he'd had trouble when he was first learning English but it wasn't too hard now.

"I owe you an apology," JJ said yet again.

"You keep saying," Yuri muttered.

"Look," JJ paused for a second to make sure Yuri was listening. "I've been rather awful to you. I was insensitive at best and downright rude at worst. I shouldn't have assumed anything."

"It's not like you knew at the time," Yuri frowned.

"It was still awful of me," JJ was not going to retract his apology it seemed. "I've been really bad to you in the past, so why did you call me a few weeks ago?"

"I told you not to mention that," Yuri glared.

"We're in a room with people who mostly only speak French," JJ said. "Nobody here knows you but me. There's no point in acting like it didn't happen."

Yuri was quiet for a minute. "I don't know JJ," he ran a hand through his hair. "I was angry and I needed to let that out. I needed to talk to somebody."

"Why me though?" JJ seemed to genuinely want to know. "I understand that with time zones you couldn't contact who you usually would, but why me?"

"You're an ass JJ," Yuri stated. "But you're so fucking nice to everybody."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Shut up Leroy, I'm not finished," Yuri glowered at him. "You're annoyingly self assured even when breaking down. It's stupid. And you sort of understand because of your brother. So yeah, that's why. Happy?"

"I always thought you hated me," JJ told him.

"I do," Yuri deadpanned. He didn't but the other man didn't need to know that.

"I've given you every reason to," JJ looked down for once. "I should be ashamed of myself really."

"Is the great Jean Jacques Leroy admitting he was wrong?" Yuri teased. "I never thought I'd live to see the day," he gloated for a second.

"Yes I am admitting that I was wrong," JJ looked back up. "I was insensitive to you and I'm sincerely apologizing right now. If I had said some of the stuff I've said to you to my brother, it would crush him. It was unwarranted, I should've kept my mouth shut or said something else."

"You didn't know," Yuri repeated. "I didn't want anybody to know. I'm not upset about it anymore, sure it wasn't great at the tie but I'm not harboring a grudge. I forgive you," and he meant it. "You're still an ass though."

"And there's the Yuri we all know," JJ laughed, seeking lighter now that he knew Yuri wasn't upset because of him. "You know I respect you, right? All of us do."

"Well I'm great at what I do of course you do," Yuri brushed off JJ's comment.

"You achieved something far beyond what most of the rest of us can," JJ said. "And you're at a disadvantage to the rest of us."

"I work hard is all," Yuri shrugged. "It's really not much."

"Well I hope to climb the podium with you again in a few days," JJ smiled. "I'll be cheering for you, cheer for me too?"

"In your dreams jackass," Yuri rolled his eyes. As if he'd ever cheer his rival on. "I don't need you wishing me luck anyway."

"You know, some people genuinely want to see you succeed chaton," now JJ had one of those unreadable expressions.

Before Yuri could think of some biting remark in response, their waiter showed up with their food and spent a couple minutes talking to JJ. It seemed as if the waiter appreciated the Canadian man's charm.

"What was that all about?" Yuri asked after waiting a few minutes. "You seemed to talk much too long for it to be about the food."

"The waiter thinks we're a couple," JJ laughed. "He said I was a lucky man to have such a pretty lady like you," Yuri frowned at that. "I told him you were a man and he apologized for making assumptions. And he said every beautiful couple deserves a dessert, so we get one for free."

"I can't believe he thinks that," Yuri made a face. "As if I'd ever date you. I have standards."

"I'm not one to turn down free dessert from a Frenchman," JJ shrugged. "You wouldn't want to upset him babe," he teased.

"You are the worst," Yuri speared a piece of chicken on his fork. "I'm gonna tell your hag fiancée."

"Isabella wouldn't mind," JJ stated. "In fact she'd be disappointed in me for turning down dessert at such a fine establishment. Plus, it's an open relationship."

"I thought you two were grossly in love," Yuri said. "Almost as bad as the geezer and Katsudon. Why an open relationship?"

"We are as you say grossly in love, she means the world to me and is my biggest supporter," JJ got a sappy look on his face. "But I'm polyamorous and even though she isn't really she doesn't demand that I stay in a monogamous relationship with her. We're both free to have other partners if we so desire as long as we keep a line of communication and everyone involved agrees to it."

"You're insufferable I don't see how you could one person to like you, much less multiple people," Yuri scoffed. "And you're gonna be married why would someone date a married person?"

"Sometimes I forget that you're just a kid," JJ laughed. "You don't really know all that much about this stuff do you?"

"I know more than most people," Yuri said. "I've been a little bit busy figuring other stuff out though."

"We all have our priorities when it comes to it," JJ said. "For you gender is more pressing, that makes sense. We all just have to be respectful of other people's identities."

"I know," Yuri nodded. "Respect is important, but it has to be mutual."

"You're a good kid," JJ smiled at him disregarding his comment about how wasn't a kid. "You have a good understanding of how the world should be, it's too bad that it's not that way," he sighed softly. "So what do you say chaton, will you be my platonic date for dessert?" He winked in a joking manner at that.

"I guess I can pretend to not hate you for an hour if it gets me free dessert," Yuri agreed. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Sounds like a deal to me," JJ grinned.

"You're still an ass," Yuri said once again just to make sure the point was clear. He turned his attention to his dinner after that. The noodles had grown slightly cold while he and JJ had been talking, but it still tasted alright.

They ate their meal in silence and almost as soon as their plates were cleared the waiter came back with a dessert menu, Yuri noticed he had only brought one this time. JJ and the waiter spent about three or so minutes talking before the waiter took the menu and walked off. "I asked for the house special," JJ told Yuri after a minute.

"You sound like a different person when you're speaking French," Yuri said, he had noticed that earlier. "Less of an ass."

"It's a Romance language, it's supposed to sound nice," JJ shrugged. "You sound different when you speak Russian."

"Fair point," Yuri nodded. "Russian is not supposed to sound nice though."

"The accent sure helps with your tough guy facade," JJ said. "Though that's easy to see through."

"I do not have a tough guy facade," Yuri glared at him and crossed his arms. "I am tough."

JJ grinned at him mischievously and unlocked his phone. "So Mr. Tough guy, I'm guessing you don't want to see pictures of my sister's cat then?"

Yuri gasped and snatched the phone from JJ's hand. "It's so fluffy and sweet and little," he cooed at he scrolled through the pictures. "Your sister is a cat person that's wonderful. Just look at its toe beans and it's perfect ears. And that nose is to die for. So cute."

"Real tough, Yuri, real tough," JJ chuckled as he pulled his phone back. "The epitome of a tough guy."

"Tough guys can appreciate cats too," Yuri narrowed his eyes as if he was challenging JJ.

"Yes that explains why you're tearing up chaton," JJ smirked. "Oh look, one just rolled down your cheek."

"Shut up," Yuri pouted, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm tough."

"Real tough," JJ reached across the table and ruffled Yuri's hair.

Of course it was then that the waiter showed up with their dessert which caused Yuri to flush slightly. And of course JJ had to engage the guy in conversation again, this time with a few gestures towards Yuri.

Once the waiter was gone again and well out of sight Yuri narrowed his eyes. "What did you say to him?"

"Wouldn't you like to know chaton?" JJ smirked. "Can I not compliment my platonic date mate?"

"No," Yuri frowned. "Not unless I understand what you're saying. And I'm not even friends with you so this is like an enemy thing."

"Well you're pretending to not hate me," JJ quoted. "That's not too far gone from friendship."

Yuri chose not to answer that and instead looked at the dish that sat between them, of course there was only one. "What even is this?"

"Something we probably shouldn't eat two days before competition," JJ answered. "But there's no point in not."

"You're trying to sabotage me, aren't you?" Yuri accused, his voice laced with a tone of playfulness.

"We both know you traveled here with the only real competition," JJ said. "A little sweet won't ruin anything."

"You might have cooties though," Yuri poked his tongue out. "And I have to share this one dish with you."

"Cooties, real mature Yuri," JJ raised an eyebrow. "The waiter thinks we're boyfriends, of course it's only one dish, now are you gonna eat some or should I take it all for myself."

"I am extremely mature," Yuri stuck his tongue out again to prove his point. "And fine I'll eat whatever this sugary sabotage is," he took a bite of the dessert. His eyes widened as he did. Whatever it was, it was one of the most delicious things he had ever tasted.

"Share," JJ shot him a playful look and took a bite of his own. That was really all it took for both of them to start eating in earnest.

Yuri had absolutely no qualms about knocking JJ's hand aside to get the best bites for himself. It wasn't until there was only about one bite left that they hesitated.

"Go ahead," JJ offered. "You take it, I'm the one treating you."

"It was a free dessert," Yuri countered. He only took half of what was left. Nobody could say he wasn't a nice person, he was a man of many kindnesses.

"How sweet of you chaton," JJ smiled. "The tough guy does have a soft side."

"Can it asshole," Yuri glared, there was no real anger in the gaze. "Don't make me regret that."

"Coming from you, asshole is almost a term of endearment," JJ teased.

Yuri made a face at him but JJ took no notice because the waiter had come by with the bill. JJ made friendly conversation—at least that's what Yuri assumed it was—with the waiter for a few minutes before the waiter left once again.

"What time do you have to be back to the hotel?" JJ asked as they left the restaurant. The air outside had cooled while they were inside and Yuri pulled his jacket a little tighter around his shoulders.

"Not until nine," he answered. "Take me back now, you're better at getting around here," he begrudgingly admitted. "The locals like you since you speak their language."

"Well that's not for a few hours," JJ pointed out. "You might as well enjoy the city."

"Ugh, I have to spend more time with you," he wrinkled his nose. "Can't I just go back?"

"Consider this trial friendship," JJ said. "Plus, I can tell you want to see more of the city anyway."

Yuri hated to admit it but JJ was right, he did want to see more of the city and the Canadian man wasn't as annoying as he could be. "Fine," he huffed. "I guess it won't kill me to hang out with you a little bit longer. But we are not friends. Not at all. I don't do friendship."

"That's by your own choice," JJ told him. "Now come along, we have some sightseeing to do."

Yuri figured JJ would be able to get around much better than he would so he allowed him to take the lead. They ambled through a few markets, stopping every once in a while to make a small purchase.

Eventually they ended up in line to go up the Eiffel Tower. The wait was actually quite short since there weren't too many tourists milling about and Yuri soon found himself up on the highest platform.

"Have you ever been here before?" He asked JJ. "I've been once for a competition but never left the hotel."

"I've been for competition as well," JJ said. "My family came for vacation once maybe ten years back. I was thoroughly unimpressed by the sight of it. We kept going to art museums and I was too young to appreciate that then."

"Did you go on a lot of trips like that with them?" Yuri asked. It was part out of genuine curiosity and part out of his need to compare others childhoods to his own.

"We traveled a lot," JJ nodded. "Sometimes for various competitions, sometimes just for fun. It all kinda blurs together now. What about you? Did your family travel?"

"Erm..." Yuri glanced down at the ground that was far far beneath them. "My dedushka didn't have the means to really. We'd go on trips to the zoo or to a little adventure park and I thought that was the best thing ever. I've been under Yakov since a bit before my junior years, so really I've only travelled for competition," he shrugged.

"Sorry for prying," JJ backed off he could probably tell it was a sensitive subject.

"Don't worry about it," Yuri brushed it off. "It's no big deal."

"How is it living with Victor and Yuuri?" JJ asked, sensing that a change of subject was in order.

"Everybody asks that," Yuri stated. "They're obnoxiously in love and show it every moment possible. But they're supportive at least."

"We've all seen the pictures," JJ laughed. "It's downright familial what you've got. When my little brother came out we didn't really know what to do about it or how to take it," he said. "I was fourteen or fifteen when he did, I can't remember if was six or seven. I was trying to figure out all my shit with sexuality back then. I'm not proud of how I responded at first."

"Six," Yuri said. "He was around the same age as me. Thats when I came out. You're good about it now at least."

"My parents didn't know what to do so they got in contact with Yuuri," JJ continued his story. "He was still in Detroit at the time so he actually took a week and came and visited in person."

"Sounds like something he would do," Yuri nodded. "He's a terribly good person at heart."

"He interacted with my brother a lot and started using the name he picked and calling him buddy and my brother just lit up," JJ recalled. "He was the happiest he'd ever been. Yuuri sat us all down, well my parents and me, and he told to ask him any questions we possibly had. And there were a lot. Some pretty insensitive ones too. I thought it was pretty cool, I mean this guys only like three years older than me but was so willing to deal with all of our crap to ensure my brother would be happy."

"Yep definitely sounds like him," Yuri stated. He wished someone had done that for his parents.

"I pulled him aside at one point and asked him if it was okay that I liked more than one person and wanted to date more than one," JJ laughed at the memory. "I was so embarrassed about that. He intimidated me even though I was already taller than him at the time. But he showed me some things to look into and told me it was okay."

"I'm pretty sure he's been everyone's support system at some point, he only sucks at helping himself out," Yuri said, it was something he had noticed.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he told people to come to him instead of you if they had questions about what being trans means," JJ said.

Yuri hadn't thought about that possibility before, but now that he did it made sense. He had been wondering why all the other skaters had taken it in stride and not asked him intrusive questions. "Stupid Katsudon, not letting me handle it on my own," he grumbled. He wouldn't admit to JJ that he was thankful.

"He means well for you," JJ told him. "I honestly can't think of any of our competitions who don't. We're all cheering you on."

"Well I don't need anyone to cheer for me," Yuri frowned. "I don't need people to be my friends. I'm fine on my own."

"It's not the end of the world to let people support you," JJ said. "You're the one who's closed off to it."

"Well nobody wants to be my friend anyway," Yuri snorted.

"I'd like to be your friend," JJ said, his tone sincere.

Yuri was taken aback by that. "Why?!" He spluttered.

"Because you're a good kid and an interesting person," JJ responded. "Not to mention a damn good skater. "If you'd just let yourself be open to it, you'd have a lot of friends Yuri. We're all on your side."

"Okay," Yuri muttered, looking back towards the street again.

"Okay, what?" JJ prompted.

"We can be...friends," the word felt weird in his mouth and this reminded him all too much of when he and Otabek became friends. What was with his competitors dragging him sightseeing and then requesting friendship. "But you're still my rival and I hate you."

"Very kind of you," JJ teased. "This friendship is off to a beautiful start."

"Shut up Leroy," Yuri was smiling.

"You don't mean that Plisetsky," JJ matched his tone.

"I said shut up asshole," Yuri rolled his eyes.

"As you wish princess," JJ teased. "Ah, shit. Sorry man," he quickly apologized.

"I don't mind princess too much," Yuri said. "You've always called me that anyway. Don't call me lady though, I can't stand that one. It makes my skin crawl."

"Noted," JJ nodded. "We should probably head out now, there are a few more markets between here and the hotel."

Yuri nodded and followed him back to the elevator to go back down to the ground. It was a strange feeling walking back out from under the tower after having been up on it. He felt small and insignificant.

The two of them walked slowly back in the direction of the hotel. It was chilly but nowhere near as cold as what Yuri was used to this time of year which was nice. They walked in companionable silence and looked through the market around them. Every once in a while Yuri would have JJ translate for him. He ended up buying some assorted paraphernalia. Not that he would ever admit it, but he was enjoying himself.

When they reached the last stall of the market, JJ got an excited look on his face and rushed over to it. He started speaking to the owner in rapid fire French and Yuri frowned since he couldn't understand a word of it. It didn't take him long to figure out what JJ had asked for though.

A few minutes later JJ had paid and walked over to him with a ridiculous grin on his face. "Hold your arm out."

Yuri rolled his eyes but obliged. JJ poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and tied a bracelet around Yuri's wrist. "Perfect," JJ grinned even wider somehow. "Now put mine on," he handed Yuri the other bracelet and held his wrist out.

Yuri gave a dramatic sigh and tied the bracelet on JJ's wrist. "I cannot believe you," he rolled his eyes again. The bracelets were the kind that could be bought at most tourist destinations. Made of thread with a name spelled out in the center. They were almost matching. Yuri's had his name in dark purple and the base of the bracelet a soft blue. JJ's was in the same color scheme but blue for his name and purple for the base.

"Every good friendship needs a friendship bracelet," JJ grinned yet again.

"You're insufferable," Yuri scoffed, it's not like he was enjoying himself at all. He definitely was.

"You're my friend now, chaton," JJ stated. "Get used to it."

"Ugh," Yuri huffed. "Friendship bracelets though? Are we middle schoolers?"

"Yes," JJ nodded. "Which means you have to tell me all about your crushes now," Yuri was fairly certain he was being serious.

"I don't like anybody," he crossed his arms.

"That's no fun," JJ pouted. "No one at all. You have to have liked someone at some point. Girls? Boys? Neither? No preference?"

"Obnoxious idiot, this friendship was a bad idea," Yuri groaned. "If I answer that you have to answer it too."

"Deal," JJ said much too quickly for Yuri's liking.

"I can't believe this," he grumbled. "Fine. I'm sixteen of course I've liked people before, but it's not anything I've ever been super invested in. I've been really busy figuring this shit out," he gestured to his body. "Girls can be cute but I dunno. I think I prefer guys or more masculine of center people. I really haven't given it a lot of thought."

"You don't have to have it figured out, I didn't at your age," JJ told him. "As for me, obviously I love Isabella," he smiled at the thought of her. "I don't have a preference when it comes to gender, I'm pansexual," he shrugged. "As for crushes there's this one guy who frequents my home rink and oh my, just look at him," JJ opened his camera roll and showed Yuri a few pictures of him with his arm around the shoulders of a slightly shorter dark skinned man who appeared to be about JJ's age. "He's amazing," he gushed.

"Is he any good?" Yuri asked.

"Oh he's terrible," JJ's tone was fond. "The worst actually but he comes twice a week always after I'm done practicing and he skates. I usually skate my cool down with him. Sometimes he gets there early and watches my practice."

"I think someone has a crush," Yuri singsonged, sounding a lot like Mila in the moment.

"I just said I did," JJ sighed softly. "I see on campus at college too sometimes. He's in some of my classes."

"I didn't mean you, you moron," Yuri rolled his eyes. "I meant him. Nobody would willingly allow themself to be around you that long without reason."

"Isabella said that too," JJ stated. "But there's no way he does."

"Ugh, insufferable sappy idiot," Yuri groaned. "You better tell me when you go on a date with him."

"Aw, you do care," JJ grinned. "I knew you'd make a great friend. You're gonna have to tell me about any crushes you get. It's a requirement."

"Maybe," Yuri stuck his tongue. "Maybe I won't."

"You wound me chaton, so mean," JJ fake pouted. "Well, I'll see you around," Yuri hadn't noticed that they had arrived at the hotel.

"Oh right okay," Yuri nodded. "Ah, here," he unplugged his phone from JJ's portable charger and handed it back to him. "Thanks for letting me borrow it."

"No problem," JJ smiled. "It was nice to hang out with you without you trying to bite my head off."

"I guess I did sort of maybe enjoy myself, just a little," Yuri mumbled.

"What was that?" JJ asked.

"You're an ass," Yuri stuck his tongue out and stomped off to his room.

He was surprised about the fact that he actually had enjoyed himself. He didn't think that JJ could be someone he'd ever befriend but apparently that wasn't the case. It was a bit strange though.

He tossed his bag of souvenirs with the rest of his luggage and took a quick shower before hopping into bed. He had to be up early.

Practice the next morning was as hectic was ever, more so that usual due to the number of coaches yelling from the rink side.

"Vitya, you cannot change that jump at the end of your program," Yakov's voice carried across the rink well, though Yuri supposed he only paid notice because it was his coach yelling. He might have smirked slightly at Victor being yelled at, it's not like he would listen.

"Yuri, that was the sloppiest spin I've seen all day, do it again," the yells were redirected at him.

Yuri turned his focus back to his skating. He would need to pull at least a third if he wanted to qualify for the final, a second or first would be better. Anything less and he'd be watching from the sidelines. He wouldn't be the kid who won on his debut and then failed to even qualify the next year. Then his achievement would be attributed to luck or a fluke.

He ran through the spin a few times until he was satisfied with its execution and then he started going through his step sequences, taking care to remember what Yuuri had told him about them.

Practice wasn't supposed to be super strenuous since the competition began the next day and it could be disastrous if he was over tired. He knew his technical aspects were mostly concreted by now, but he would still struggle with the performance part, especially in his short program.

"Vitya, Yuri," Yakov's voice ring across the ice. "I have to take this call. Keep working on what you're doing, no jumps until I'm back."

Yuri wondered what was going on to cause Yakov to skip out on practice, he usually wouldn't leave for anything. Victor seemed to know though as his eyebrows drew together and he frowned.

"Yurio," Victor skater over to him. "Show me that step sequence you were just working on."

Yuri went through it a few times and made slight adjustments, taking only some of Victor's advice into play. "Shouldn't you be focusing on yourself old man, don't want you keeling over tomorrow."

"I can see Yuuri's influence in that," Victor ignored his comment. "It looks much better than in America."

"Of course it does," Yuri stated. "I've worked hard."

"I'm aware," Victor nodded. "Can you skate your short from the top?"

"Shouldn't you be practicing too?" Yuri raised an eyebrow. "I don't need your help. I want to beat you fair and square, I can't do that if you waste your practice time on me."

"Ten minutes won't hurt, now skate," Victor adopted his coach voice.

Yuri huffed but put himself into his starting position anyway. He had barely even gotten through his first few movements before Victor stopped him. "You won't win anything unless you're feeling it. That's your main problem. Work on it. Now again. This time with feeling."

Yuri got through most of his program this time before being stopped this time by Yakov. "I said no jumps," the coach frowned, the phone still up to his ear. "Yuri take your lunch break. Vitya, I need to talk to you."

Yuri was confused, it was still an hour before he should go eat. But he knew not to argue, Yakov's tone was unusual and the way Victor rushed off the ice without even taking a second to cool down was odd.

They had been acting odd over the past week, at first he thought it was just because of the surprise they had for him, but their behavior hadn't changed. If anything it only got more suspicious.

He didn't have time to worry about it though so he took a cool down lap and left the ice, switching his skates out for regular shoes and walking to the cafe inside the same building as the rink where ,thankfully, they spoke English.

He got himself a turkey sandwich on a croissant and took his time eating it. Yakov and Victor were nowhere in sight and even once he had finished his lunch they still were off who knows where.

Yuri walked back rink side but he knew better than to get on the ice without Yakov's permission to do so. He sat there for well over an hour before his coach made an appearance again.

"Get back out," Yakov was more gruff than usual. "Practice your program all the way through. Work on that spin that's been troubling you. We're leaving in half an hour."

"What was that call about?" Yuri frowned. "You're acting strange and cutting my practice short. Stop keeping things from me if you're going to do something that could harm my performance."

"It's no concern of yours," Yakov shook his head. "I'll give you an hour. Go now."

Yuri laced his skates back up and took to the ice again. He chose not to dwell on it for the moment, his practice would suffer if he was distracted. And anyway, the ice was the biggest distraction from his troubles.

The only thing different this time was the lack of commands shouted from Yakov. But Yuri knew what he needed to work on, he had heard it enough times.

He focused mainly on spins and step sequences as those were what he tended to mess up the most. Jumps didn't necessarily need the same amount of feeling out into them and since feeling was his weakness, he worked on what required that.

It wasn't until he was called off the ice again that he remembered about the strange behavior of his coach. "Are you going to tell me what's up now?" He asked as he put his skates away for the day and stretched again.

"Foolish boy, focus on yourself," Yakov scolded him. "Don't worry yourself over nothing."

Yuri decided it was best not to ask again. Though it was strange that he was being kept out of the loop, it was obvious that Victor knew what was happening which meant of course that Yuuri knew as well. If Yuuri wasn't telling him and Yakov and Victor were leaving his side to discuss it, he knew it was about him. But there were a hundred different things it could be.

He thought about asking Yuuri because the older man had a hard time not telling him about stuff that pertained to him, but ultimately he decided that wasn't for the best.

Worrying about whatever was happening would just affect his performance the next day, though Victor knew about it and he was performing too. That meant it definitely was about him and not someone else.

Yuri bit his lip at the thought, he really had no clue what they were hiding from him. But he had a competition to win and he needed to focus on that instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've been doing a lot of set up and soon enough some of that will finally get played out. There's a few scenes I'm excited to write coming up (that doesn't mean they're interesting to you guys but they are to me). I did not intend the scene wth JJ to be as long as it was but it happened. Look at my son making awkward friendships. Also almost 5000 hits im so happy!
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated, I love hearing your opinions. They sustain me like sunlight does my plant (he might make it!)


	14. Of Dread and Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay there's lots of confusion, irritability, dissociation, and anger in here. Yuri needs a hug

At breakfast the next morning Yakov and Victor acted as if nothing had happened at all and Yuuri just looked tired, though to be fair he wasn't a morning person in the slightest so that made sense.

"What were you up to yesterday?" Yuri asked Yuuri, everyone else was breaking routine so he figured he might as well too. "I didn't see you around."

"I stayed in bed mostly," Yuuri was quieter than usual. "I forgot my anxiety medicine so it was too much to be dealing with everything that was going on."

"Are you going to be okay to watch the competition today?" Yuri asked.

"Don't worry about it," Yuuri smiled at him. "I've got it under control. Yesterday was just one of my bad days."

Yuri nodded and turned to his breakfast. He had lived with Yuuri long enough to see quite a few of his bad days though he tried to hide them. "Well don't be a moron and do something to make it worse. I want you to watch me beat the geezer but not if it will hurt you."

"And to think last year you would've yelled at me about this," Yuuri laughed softly. "You've grown up some. You're turning into a fine young man."

Yuri ducked his head and smiled slightly. It was nice to be complimented and especially nice when that compliment came with an affirmation of his identity. "I'm not being nice, I just want you into shape so I can crush you at the final," Yuri reasoned. "Nothing else."

"Thanks for the support Yura," Yuuri smiled at him.

Yuri stuck his tongue out and finished his breakfast. He was more than ready to go to the rink, he couldn't wait to compete. Besides himself, JJ, and Victor, the other three competitors were that French skater from Skate America, Emil Nekola, and someone he didn't recognize. Maybe he should've paid more attention to the information Yakov gave him about his fellow competitors, it was a bit late for that now though.

He was still pretty groggy when they arrived at the rink and he wandered off to find a nice place to stretch in silence as a means of waking himself up.

It was early enough that most of the audience was yet to arrive, but there was still a good crowd out there. Their muffled voices carried through the wall to where Yuri was stretching, it was a familiar noise. One he almost didn't notice after so many years of competing. It was all part of the typical buzz surrounding competition. He just had to avoid going somewhere that would get him stuck having to talk to anyone.

He was halfway into a split when he heard rustling beside him. "What do you want?" He asked without turning to look. He knew who it was already.

"I need to stretch too Yuri," Victor said. "Is that so odd to you?"

"You're acting weird," Yuri frowned. "You have been for a long time now and I want to know why. It's annoying."

"I haven't a clue what you're talking about," Victor feigned ignorance. The message was clear: _not now, save this until later we have a competition to focus on_.

"Whatever," Yuri rolled his eyes. "Could you push down on my shoulders for me?" He asked. Victor obliged and Yuri felt the familiar pull of his muscles. "Thanks."

"You help me too," Victor switched him places and they continued like that for a while. Wordlessly going through stretches together.

This wasn't something they normally did together but Yuri didn't comment on that. Victor usually disappeared at competitions only to show up right before his turn to skate. Yuri didn't actually know what Victor did during that time, so it was strange to see him so close to competing.

Victor was already in costume and looked as if he could step on the ice and skate right away, Yuri still hadn't bothered changing yet. "You're such a sap," Yuri said gesturing at Victors attire. "I wasn't sure you could get any worse but you did."

"It's love Yuri," Victor smiled and absentmindedly ran his fingers down his costume, hovering over his heart for a while. "It's all for him because I love him."

"I know," Yuri deadpanned. "Somebody never shuts up about it, it's annoying."

"Well, how else would the world know that he's the most lovely man to ever grace the earth," Victors expression morphed to one of a lovestruck man, Yuri quickly regretted his decision to mention anything. "Everyone needs to know."

"You're disgusting," Yuri huffed. "What's the big deal about it anyway, you don't have to make it so obvious."

"Love does strange things to you," Victor smiled. "When you love somebody or when somebody loves you, it's something special."

"Yeah, well nobody will ever love me so I don't need to worry about that," Yuri's frown was an exact replica of Victors current smile, just flipped.

"That's not true,"Victor shook his head.

"Yes it is," Yuri insisted before he could get another word out. "Nobody does now so it's not too far a stretch to say nobody ever will."

"Plenty of people love you," Victor's tone changed to a more serious one.

"Yeah right," Yuri rolled his eyes. It was another one of those things that he just knew. He wasn't exactly a lovable person, he only had one friend who had been his friend for more than two months, it's not like that would ever change. People didn't like him.

"Your grandfather?" Victor raised an eyebrow. "He absolutely adores you."

"That doesn't count," Yuri crossed his arms.

"There's more than one type of love," Victor sighed softly and reached his hand towards Yuri's shoulder, Yuri nodded to say it was okay for him to touch him. "Love is a pretty broad word sometimes."

"Yeah well there's nobody but grandpa," Yuri ducked his head.

"Yakov and Lilia want to see you succeed and grow into your potential, Mila and Georgi consider you a younger sibling of sorts, you're Otabek's best friend," Victor listed. "Those are all a type of love in their own right."

"So what?" Yuri frowned again. "It's not like that will last very long, they'll stop caring eventually."

"Maybe," Victor's tone was off somehow. "I can't promise you they won't, I'm not them. But I can promise you one thing," he paused as if prompting Yuri to ask what.

"And what's that?" Yuri asked, giving into the obvious ploy.

"Yuuri and I," Victor stated. "You know we both love you right? We want to see you happy and loving life. We want you to succeed in what you want. We just want the best for you."

"Yeah, whatever old man," Yuri wasn't sure what to say to that so he just pushed it off.

"I didn't think anybody loved me either," Victor told him. "Not until I met Yuuri, he showed me to appreciate the love I have from others."

"Everybody loves you," Yuri sounded more forceful than he meant too. "You're practically Yakov's son, all our rink mates think you're amazing, you might as well be a god to the fans. You're Victor fucking Nikiforov. Yuuri thinks you hung the moon or something like that."

"Well I didn't always see that," Victor admitted. "I had my own set of problems growing up. Don't worry about it, you'll get there. You are loved though Yura, now you had best be getting changed now."

Victor helped pull Yuri into a standing position and slowly walked off in the direction they both needed to go. Yuri waited a second before following. He supposed Victor was probably right, but he still didn't really see it. It was something to think about at least.

He made quick work of changing into his costume and probably spent more time arranging his chest than he did actually putting the thing on. Even though he purposely designed it to not be flashy, it was still weird to see a costume that wasn't demanding attention on him. He could feel the excitement building up as his event quickly approached. After giving the costume one last check, he seemed it was on properly and went to find the others.

He found them rinkside and joined them there. Yakov was off to the side on the phone, which was strange, he never took calls during competition. Yuri assumed it had something to do with what was going on the day before and he decided to ask about it later, he needed to not worry himself about it.

Victor was standing upright with both hands wrapped around a water bottle. This was a typical stance for him, he always stood like so a bit before competing—when he wasn't entertaining the audience that was. Yuuri was seated on a bench directly behind Victor, he still looked rather tired and he had one arm outstretched and resting on Victors hip, an act obviously meant to comfort the two of them.

Yuri sat down next to Yuuri on the bench and after a few seconds of internal debate, he tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey Yura," Yuuri turned his head to smile at him. "Are you ready?"

"Mostly," Yuri nodded in response, he could see that Yuuri was trying rather hard to act normal. "Do you think you could braid my hair for me?" He asked, his tone unsure. He had recently taken to asking the Japanese man to brush or style his hair for him quite frequently. It was something of a comfort to him and he needed it done anyway.

"Of course I can," Yuuri repositioned himself so that he could do so. "How do you want it?"

"Do you remember how Georgi did it in Chicago?" Yuri asked. "I want it like that again. Just one sort of loose braid in the middle."

Yuuri hummed his acknowledgment of the request and began to brush Yuri's hair back. Yuri closed his eyes and tipped his head back slightly to make the process easier. It was very relaxing and he could feel the tension he wasn't aware had been brewing inside him slowly dissipate.

Yuuri spent a few minutes longer braiding his hair than what was necessary, but Yuri was not about to complain. There was still a little bit of time before the warmup would begin and Yuri could feel himself building anticipation.

"Scoot over a bit," Yuuri nudged him down the bench. He then grabbed Victor's elbow and pulled him back. "You sit." Victor sat down in the space cleared for him and Yuuri wrapped an arm around both of their shoulders. "You're both going to do great out there," he smiled at them.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," Yuri said playfully. He fully intended upon winning but it was mostly friendly competition, mostly.

"I'm skating for you my love," Victor shot Yuuri the snappiest look he was capable of and Yuri faked a gag at them.

"I'm happy to watch you skate," Yuuri was still smiling. "Both of you. Both of my boys."

"Stop being sappy," Yuri grumbled. "You can't both be sappy at the same time, it's disgusting."

"Aw, we love you too Yura," it was Yuuri who said that. Yuri assumed that Victor had said something to him.

Yuri just made a face at both of them and then closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He was almost buzzing at this point. When the tine finally came to get ready for the warmup he was smiling. Both he and Victor laced their skates up at the same time.

Before they got up to get onto the ice for the warmup, Yuuri pressed a chaste kiss to Victor's cheek and then turned towards Yuri and kissed him on the forehead. Yuri froze at that action and it took Victor tugging on his arm to get him to realize he needed to get on the ice.

He allowed himself to think about it for only a minute. It was such a genre affectionate action and he was taken off guard by it because it wasn't something that happened to him. He wasn't the one on either the receiving or giving end of affection, so it was odd.

The feel of the ice beneath his skates was enough to chase any lingering thoughts out of his mind. It was time for competition and he would do his best no matter what, he couldn't afford the distraction.

The stretch of his leg muscles as he skated his warmup laps was a familiar warmth. He was ready and he definitely was going to do better than he had in Chicago.

He was slated to go fourth and was almost impatient about that. He wanted to skate and he wanted to do so right then. The skater he didn't know was set to go first, followed by the French guy, then JJ. Emil and Victor were set to go after him.

When the warmup period ended, he reluctantly left the ice. The first skater's music began and he watched to see what he was up against. The guy was good, but not genius level though to be fair there weren't many skaters who were. The program was strong, but its technical value was still lower than Yuri's, which meant it was also lower than Victor's and JJ's.

Yuri only paid partial attention to the French skater, after coming in dead last at Skate America, there was no chance the guy could qualify for the final. It was obvious though that the skater was feeling significantly better, and his program was very well received since it was home territory. It was a fun upbeat program that probably would get the guy a medal at his nationals at least.

It was then JJ's turn to take to the ice. JJ was his typical cheery self as he waited for his cue to skate to the center and start. He wasn't extremely close to Yuri but near enough. "Bonne chance, JJ," Yuri said, the google translated French rolling off his tongue awkwardly. He wasn't sure if JJ had even heard.

Yuri couldn't remember what JJ's theme was for the season, he really should have paid more attention to the information he was given. The song was quite the opposite of what JJ had skates to the year prior, no lyrics proclaiming him a king this go around. His costume was similar to Yuri's free skate costume except in dark blue instead of black and with more adornment. It almost seemed militaristic.

True to his word, Yuri paid close attention to JJ's program and clapped and cheered in all the appropriate places, perhaps a bit quieter than most would. The program had a higher technical difficulty than the one JJ had skated the year before, and it was impressive to see how he pulled it off, not that Yuri would ever admit to finding JJ impressive.

Yuri begrudgingly analyzed the strengths of the program. It was obvious that JJ had a better grasp of the performance aspect than he did, but then again most skaters did. Yuri really needed to step up his performance if he wanted to do well.

Yuri stepped onto the ice as JJ was getting off. "Good luck chaton," JJ was far too enthusiastic to have just finished a harsh program. "Thanks for cheering me on."

Yuri made a face and stood to the side, he had to wait for the ice to be cleared of the many flowers and plushies scattered all over. This was normally when Yakov and Lilia would give him a few words of encouragement, but Lilia hadn't been able to come this time and Yakov was still nowhere to be seen. The momentary panic must have shown on his face because Victor and Yuuri were in front of him almost immediately.

They spoke softly and he didn't really catch most of what they were saying, but he knew it was akin to what his coaches would normally say. Yuuri squeezed his shoulder and smiled.

Yuri pulled away only once it was time for him to begin his program. He could hear the crowd cheering as he skated towards the center, they were slightly less enthusiastic than they had been with the others.

The music began angry aggressive and arrogant, this was always easiest part for Yuri to skate. He could be cold and harsh and devastating on the ice, it was letting that slowly fade away that was the hard part.

He threw himself into his jumps with a force that would appear to be fueled by anger though he didn't know what he had to be so angry about. He didn't know how to show what he was feeling.

He flubbed a triple axel and hit the ice hard with a loud thud that even he noticed through his competition induced haze. It was a hard enough impact to shake him out of the mostly self imposed stupor.

He got to his feet immediately and this time it was different, the music was softening, he had to let go of the anger. He found himself thinking of Yuuri and Victor and Otabek and even JJ. People who took his angry and arrogance and didn't throw it back at him.

It wasn't enough of anything to make him feel what he needed, but he let what he was feeling deep out into his skating. The program was only halfway over. He couldn't afford a mistake in his second half.

Remarkably, he felt something, a small seed of what he was searching for and he let himself reach for it. He entered his spins with confidence but no arrogance, he allowed the emotion to flow through his body and out onto the ice. It wasn't enough, it wasn't good enough, but it was something to grasp for.

He was out of breath when the music ended, but he felt good about his performance. It would need work before the final, but it was a huge improvement upon his performance in Chicago.

Yakov was standing by the rink when he got off the ice. "You went into that axel too fast," was what he said, handing Yuri his blade guards.

"Where were you?" Yuri asked, heading up towards the kiss and cry followed by Yuuri and Yakov. Victor stayed by the side of the rink. "You weren't there to send me off," he tried to keep the obvious hurt out of his tone. His coach was supposed to be there at those times and he hadn't been.

"I had business to attend to," Yakov was more gruff than usual. "You did fine regardless."

Yuri frowned as he sat down and waited for his score to pop up. Yakov was acting strange and it was starting to worry him, he needed to know what was going on. Something about the mood this entire trip was grating at his nerves in the strangest way. He was surprised he had managed to keep it off his mind for the duration of his skate, it seemed to all come rushing back the second he stepped of the ice. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to forget about it for his free skate the next day.

"Yura! You did great!" Yuuri's arms wrapping around him pulled him out of his head. His score was displayed on the screen in front of him. He blinked a few times, that couldn't be right.

"I'm in first?" Yuri stared at the numbers. There was no denying it, he had a solid three point lead on JJ. "How did that happen? I messed up that jump."

"That was the best you have ever performed that routine," Yuuri smiled at him. Yakov had left to be with Victor who was up in just a few minutes. "You had emotion it in."

"Barely any," Yuri frowned. It hadn't felt right as he was skating. In fact, everything felt off. He didn't know what was going on but he had a bad taste in the back of his mouth that told him it wasn't pleasant. "Let's just go watch Victor."

Yuuri happily obliged and helped him back over to the bench they had been at earlier before his skate. At one look, nobody would think Yuuri was in a rather bad state. They would think Yuri was the one with a problem at the moment, which was probably at least partially true.

Yuuri's joy was infectious though and Yuri found that he had the ghost of a smile gracing his face. This would be the first time Yuuri saw Victor perform his routine in competition, it made sense he was excited.

The audience was cheering their loudest yet, even more excited than they had been for the French skater. It was what had been expected, Victor was everyone's favorite, that's what happens when someone is a five time world champion.

Yuri had teased Victor time and time again for the utter snappiness of his routine. His short program was set to an upbeat pop song about how he and his lover were destined for each other and his heart was for him. His costume for well with the song. It gave to illusion of a thousand pieces coming together to make up his heart with the way the colors of the costume all flowed straight to the spot right above Victor's heart. It was ridiculously sappy and Yuri made note to tease him about it again later.

Victor didn't make mistakes, his skating was practically flawless and even though Yuri had seen the irritating older man fall on his ass many times, he couldn't help but be slightly in awe of it. Though there wasn't really a skater who wasn't at least slightly in awe of Victor Nikiforov. It was annoying how good he was especially considering his age. Yuri was determined to beat him.

The crowd was all on their feet and clapping and singing along the entire time Victor was skating. Yuri heard a slight sniffle next to him and looked over to see that Yuuri was tearing up as he watched his fiancé. "Sap," Yuri rolled his eyes. He had to deal with this every day.

When the music stopped Victor struck his final pose and sought out Yuuri with shining eyes. He practically tripped over himself skating off the rink to pull Yuuri into a kiss, which the Japanese man bashfully returned. Yuri stayed where his was while Yuuri and Yakov accompanied Victor to the kiss and cry.

To nobody's surprise Victor was in first when his score was announced. Though it was the first time Yuri thought Victor seemed genuinely happy to have done so well.

They got sucked into a whirlwind of reporters on their way back to the hotel and Yuri found himself sucked into an interview he'd been hoping to avoid.

"Mr. Plisetsky, what do you think your odds are for tomorrow?"

Yuri was glad the first question was about his skating and not something else. "I'm in a rather solid second right now, I don't think it'll be too much of a stretch to say I'll medal tomorrow." He was making an attempt to not be arrogant in his interviews.

"Both JJ and Victor have more difficult technical performances than you do. How are you going to compete against that?"

"My programs are some of the most technically difficult, the only thing keeping them above me is that they have more quads in their repertoire," Yuri stated. "My body is still developing so I will eventually reach a higher level."

"You've been flubbing jumps in competition more frequently than ever so far this season, why is that?"

"I haven't been performing as well as I can," Yuri said. "I intend to improve upon that before the final and definitely by Worlds."

"Can you confirm or deny the allegations regarding your gender?"

And there it was, the question it kept coming back to. "I'm afraid that's a rather personal question regardless of my answer," Yuri said, the words careful and practiced. He had asked Yuuri to help him formulate a response to such questions. "So I have no comment."

"Is it true that these allegations are affecting your relations with your coach?"

Yuri hadn't heard this question before so he didn't know how to respond. "Sorry, its late, I'm going to have to cut this short," Yakov cut in before Yuri answered. "Yuri has to get some rest before his free skate tomorrow."

And with that he was pulled away from the reporters and taken towards Victor and Yuuri. The rush to get back to the hotel was so hectic that Yuri didn't even have time to think about the comments they had made.

It wasn't until a few hours later when he was lying down in bed that he did think about it. Logically he knew that since Yakov had known about him being trans this entire time it wouldn't make sense for it to just now be bothering him. But there was a part of Yuri that half believed it.

The reporters had to be getting that idea from somewhere, that's not something they would just ask out of the blue. It's not something they had ever discussed, but maybe that's why Yakov was being so distant with him. It would explain why Yakov had been there for Victor but not him. All of those phone calls probably had something to do with it.

Yuri couldn't blame the coach if he wanted to drop him. He hadn't been performing well this season, he had blown up at the media time and time again, and the audience wasn't quite sure what to think about him. Plus, nobody wanted to be associated with some abnormal freak like him. Now that it was out in the open it made sense that Yakov was not wanting to coach him.

He sighed and nestled deeper into the blankets, there wasn't anything he could do about it so he should just forget about it until after tomorrow. He needed to get at least third and if he was upset in the morning it would mess with his skating.

Try as he might, he couldn't fall asleep and he decided a hot drink would be a nice help with that. He remembered seeing a hot chocolate dispenser in the hotel lobby so he threw his warmup jacket on over his pajamas and snuck downstairs. He wasn't supposed to get out of bed, but he really didn't care at the moment.

He froze when he heard a familiar voice in the lobby, of course Yakov was on the phone at this time. He slipped over to machine and got himself a cup without being noticed. Yakov was talking rather loudly in Russian and despite knowing better than to, Yuri found himself a secluded seat and listened in.

"It certainly doesn't seem as if that's the case," Yakov sounded angry and Yuri wondered who could possibly be on the other end of the line.

"If you've been considering this for over a year, you would have brought it up before August. It seems that you have another reason for all of this," Yakov's tone was downright scary in Yuri's opinion. He wished he could hear the other half of the conversation.

Yakov was quiet for a long while. "You're citing something that was said by a thirteen year old as a reason for this. It doesn't matter if that's how it came across to be, that was years ago now it's no longer relevant." Yakov's frown deepened as the other person spoke again. "Can you give me numeric proof on that accusation? That doesn't sound true to me."

Yuri determined that this had to be the business Yakov kept going off on. It was rather late for a business call though. It was quite strange that Yakov was holding one.

"If you change your minds about this let me know, otherwise our contact will be cut off come January when the contract is over," Yakov huffed. "I believe this is a decision you will regret. Please refrain from calling me tomorrow, I have skaters to look after."

Yuri made more of an attempt to hide himself after Yakov ended the call. He had meant to slip away while his coach was still distracted and he hoped that he wouldn't be noticed.

Luckily for him, Yakov walked past without taking notice of him, grumbling a string of swears under his breath that even Yuri would would rarely use. Whatever that phone was about wasn't good.

Yuri waited a solid five minutes before returning to his room so as to not risk running into his coach on the way back. He tossed and turned in his bed for a few hours, trying to get comfortable. He was thoroughly confused about what was going on. Eventually he pulled open his phone and started scrolling through his playlists—most of which Otabek had made—all the way down to the one labeled sleep. It was to the soft sounds of that that he managed to fall into a fitful sleep.

He was awoken by an incessant banging on his door. "Yuri!" It was Yakov. "We are leaving for the arena in ten minutes what are you doing in there?!"

It was then that Yuri realized he had forgotten to set an alarm and had overslept. He rocketed out of bed and hastily did a few stretches to wake himself up before throwing on a training outfit and stepping outside. "Okay I'm ready," he yawned still half asleep.

Yakov wordlessly handed him a protein bar for breakfast and led him to where Victor was waiting. "Where's Yuuri?" Yuri asked, looking around for the Japanese man.

"He'll be coming separately," Victor sounded much too cheerful considering that his beloved wasn't with him. "He had a rough morning and doesn't want to deal with the crowds. He promised to make it before we skate though."

Yuri nodded, that made sense. They were quiet the rest of the way to the rink. He kept yawning and rubbing at his eyes, he was going to have to do something to wake himself up before his performance.

He excused himself and found the hallway he had stretched in the day prior. After running up and down the length of it a few times and doing some of his less strenuous workouts, he felt much more alert.

Physically, he was ready to perform. Mentally, he was far from it. He was confused which made him irritable and upset. Definitely not the mindset he needed to be in to skate. He sat down with his back against the wall and practiced one of the breathing techniques Yuuri had taught him. It helped him calm down a little bit and he changed into his costume before heading to the side of the rink.

He wished he had woken up earlier and they had come to the rink sooner, but that wasn't the case. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't crush the sense that something was majorly wrong. He could see it all over the faces of Yakov and Victor. Something in their smiles and their demeanor just screamed that they were hiding something from him. It made him anxious and upset.

To make matters worse, Yuuri still hadn't shown up, so he had to do his own hair and was left without that sense of comfort that he had grown used to. He tried not to let it show on his face though, if nobody else knew he was bothered maybe he could pretend he wasn't.

The tactic seemed to work better than he would've expected because neither Victor nor Yakov commented on it. Soon enough he had to take to the ice for the warmup.

The familiar tightness of his skates on his feet and the crunch of the ice beneath him was almost enough to drown out everything in his head. But there was still a scrap that remained and he found himself almost falling at one point. It wasn't a good situation at all.

He hardly took notice to leaving the ice and watching the skaters ahead of him. The sense of dread sitting heavy in his chest made it hard to think about or notice anything else. A hand on his shoulder was what finally managed to pull him back to his senses. "Are you okay?" It was Yuuri, he hadn't noticed the mans arrival. He looked around, Emil Nikolai was currently on the ice, his theme had something to do with superheroes and it showed well. "Yura?" Yuuri's voice was laced with concern.

Yuri thought about how to respond. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what was going on. He just had this terrible feeling that something awful had happened. "No?" It came out as a question.

"What's going on?" Yuuri's voice was soft and gentle. "Look at me, look at me," he pulled Yuri a few steps away from the others. There were still a good ten or fifteen minutes before he was up.

"I don't know," Yuri said truthfully. "Something bad is going on they won't tell me I need to know."

"Shh," Yuuri soothed him. "You need to not worry right now. I promise you that you will be told, but that's not important right now. You have a competition going on and you need to focus on that."

"Yeah," Yuri said. He did need to focus. He wasn't focused, he had been confused and upset. He had lost track of the world around him. "I have to skate."

"Can you do a breathing exercise with me?" Yuuri asked.

He nodded and Yuuri started counting seconds out for him as he breathed in, held it, and released. He didn't know if they did that for one minute or five but he felt better afterwards.

"JJ is up," Yuuri told him, gesturing towards the ice where JJ was currently performing. "So you're next. Are you ready?"

"Yes, I think so," Yuri nodded, he was as ready as he could be. "But, um, could I...get a hug?" He glanced down.

His answer came in the form of a pair of arms wrapping tightly around him. That more than anything was the grounding he needed to regain his focus. He pulled away after a few seconds.

The crowd was chanting so he assumed JJ was just about done and even though he didn't feel up to it at all, he made sure to cheer as the Canadian skater finished his performance.

He and JJ exchanged a friendly smile as they swapped places, Yuri onto the ice and JJ off. Unlike the day before, it was Yakov who stood there to give him words of encouragement. "You did well yesterday, this is your chance right here. Don't back down from it."

Yuri merely nodded, he didn't know what to say. All he could do now is skate. He took a deep breath as he glided to the center of the ice and tried to push everything of of his head as he adopted his starting position.

It worked for the most part. His mind was blank as the music started which didn't do much for his performance aspect, but he never fell.

He was numb from start to finish. Not once during the entire performance did he feel even an inkling of the emotion he needed to be feeling. But he didn't fall and his spins were clean and his step sequences were crisp.

He had never been more glad to step off the ice than when he did after this performance. He might as well have not been the one performing it for all he had felt. "Yuuri will go with you to get your score," Yakov told him. He nodded even though he barely registered the words.

It was strange being at the kiss and cry without Yakov and Lilia, but that didn't really matter at the moment. He saw the numbers flash on the screen and managed a slight smile. He was in second which meant he had medaled, he would likely make it to the final now. "That was very good Yuri," Yuuri's tone was hard to read. "You nailed the technical aspect, there was hardly even a wobble out there."

"Yeah, thanks," Yuri's voice was hollow. "It felt crisp."

"It was great," Yuuri helped him stand up and pressed a plushy into his hands. It was a cat, it was always a cat the fans knew he loved them.

He held the toy close to his chest as they walked back towards Yakov so Yuuri could watch Victor's program. Yuri didn't pay attention this time. He had so much going on in his head that he couldn't figure any of it out. He was glad for the short break between now and the final.

He lost track of the progression of time, it didn't feel as if he were controlling his body. He knew he ate something with the rest of them. He knew that he watched some ice dancers. But it was all disjointed and choppy. And that was even more confusing.

He felt trapped behind a wall of emotion, it was all a bit too much to take in at once. It was too loud and too quiet, not real enough.

Yuri came back to himself when he felt the familiar weight of a medal being placed around his neck. He blinked and looked around, Victor stood on top of the podium with JJ on his other side. Yuri had taken third, third was okay. It was okay.

He was handed some flowers and he smiled for the flashing cameras in front of him. This was a routine he could do in his sleep, it came to him with ease.

After the award ceremony ended he found himself standing in the middle of an empty hallway just staring at a wall. He didn't want to move just yet. He was alone for a while before he felt the presence of someone behind him. "You're a mess," it wasn't anyone he thought it would be. "Want to talk about it chaton?" JJ asked, silver medal gleaming proudly. He had qualified for the final.

"Have you ever known something bad was happening but you couldn't do anything about it?" Yuri stared at the ground.

"A few times, yes," JJ set a hand on Yuri's shoulder, a gesture that he had grown used to. He almost pulled away but he decided against it. "What's happening?"

"I don't know," Yuri frowned. "They're keeping it from me. It's gotta be something bad though. Maybe Yakov is gonna drop me."

"He'd be a crazy old man if he did," JJ's tone was light but he could sense sincerity in it. "And if he did, I'm sure you'd have coaches scrambling to take you. My parents would be amount them," he laughed slightly.

"As if id want that," Yuri laughed stiffly.

"I'm being completely serious," JJ said. "Your coach doesn't seem the type to drop a student in the middle of the season. And if you're under contract with him, it probably isn't exactly legal either."

"You're right," Yuri admitted. "I'm overthinking this. Sorry."

"It's okay to be worried about stuff, you don't have to apologize," JJ told him.

Yuri nodded. They talked for a while more and as much as Yuri hated to admit it, JJ had a knack for getting him to laugh and he was pulled most of the way out of his stupor. "My parents are gonna worry if I don't show up soon," JJ said once Yuri had been laughing and smiling for a while. "But before that I'm taking a selfie with you."

"No way," Yuri shook his head. "I can't be in a picture with you."

"Too late, were friends now, this is happening," JJ unlocked his phone and slung his arm around Yuri's shoulders. Yuri stuck his tongue out at the camera.

JJ took a few photos and asked if he could post one to social media, Yuri begrudgingly allowed it under the condition he approved the caption. JJ posted it right then to assure he net that requirement.

**Jjleroy!15** : the silver king and the bronze kitten, the greatest friendship

Yuri rolled his eyes at the caption but told JJ he was allowed to post it. The picture turned out okay, both of their medals were what stood out the most and they could have easily passed as people who had been friends for years. Yuri found that he actually liked being able to refer to JJ as a friend, he would never say that out loud though.

The parted ways near the front of the arena and Yuri went off with Yakov and Victor, Yuuri had left as soon as the skating was over opting out of watching the medal ceremony in person. Yakov and Victor both insisted upon eating a late dinner at the hotel once they arrived back.

Yuri wasn't too happy about that since he had been hoping to get to bed, but he agreed to as long as Yuuri would come too. Yuuri gladly obliged to Yuri's slight dismay. He really just wanted sleep.

"You both did great," Yakov congratulated the two medalists. "Though your performance aspect was more than lackluster Yuri."

"It would've been better if you guys hadnt all been hiding something from me," Yuri snapped. He was still kind of irritable and that paired with his exhaustion made for a bad combination.

"I told him he needed to tell you about it," Victor said. "He thought it would be best not to."

"Tell me what?" Yuri frowned. "I deserve to know."

"It wasn't solidified until recently," Yakov said. "But I've been dealing with it since August. There was no reason on worrying you."

"Worrying me about what?" Yuri half shouted, even Yuuri's comforting touch couldn't calm him down. "Not telling me just makes me worry about other things."

"Well what do you think is happening?" Yuuri asked, still making an attempt to calm him.

"Who knows?" Yuri was bitter. "I never get told anything. You all treat me like some fucking little kid even though I'm sixteen, I can handle it. You should just tell me that you all decided to not keep me around or that you're dropping me as a student."

Yakov blinked. "That's not what's happening, where did you get that idea?"

"That's what the media is asking about," Yuri said.

"This whole thing has been in the media to some degree," Yakov said. "You could have figured it out if you looked."

"What is it?" Yuri had lost all patience by now. "If it's not you dropping me, what could possibly be happening?"

"It's definitely not that," Yakov shook his head. "Yuri, you lost your sponsor."

Yuri's jaw dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the lower quality of this chapter. I had a bit of block about it and really didn't have a lot of plot panned for it. It's also the week of something pretty bad that happened to me in the past so I just wasn't really happy. Also please pardon any errors I didn't read through this to check for them. The story from here out is more planned out than this was. 
> 
> I'd appreciate feedback on this


	15. Of Movie Marathons and Skating Videos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor dysphoric child.

Yuri refused to talk to Victor or Yakov. He had ignored them to the point that Yuuri decided to stay with him instead of going to China with those two. He wasn't upset exactly, but he was kind of angry with them for not telling him what had happened sooner. He didn't consider Yuuri as complicit in it though so he had no problem spending a week with the Japanese man without the presence of the two Russians.

Losing his sponsor wasn't as bad as losing his coach, but Yuri wasn't Victor. He didn't have sponsors lined up out the wazoo clamoring to give him all the money he could ever need. Sure it wasn't his only sponsor, but that company was the biggest sponsor he had and without their support he would be hard pressed to come up with the money necessary for flights and competitions, much less send the portion he always did to his grandfather.

He had a handful of other sponsors, but those were all individuals and the money he got from them paled in comparison to what his main sponsor had given him. They provided his warmup gear and paid for his flights and competition fees. The only thing pertaining to skating that wasn't a direct contribution from that company was his skates, those had been a custom order from a company that specialized in professional skates.

The sponsorship would officially over at the end of the year and he had enough money from that to be able to finish off the season, but it would be a strain to stretch it too much farther than that unless he gained another sponsor soon. He was definitely going to have to suck up to people at the banquet coming up.

He had spent the flight back to St. Petersburg going over the numbers of it and determined that he could go the rest of this season and half of the next before the money would be spread too thin. That wasn't good.

He just wasn't in a good mood at all so it certainly didn't help that the first morning after getting back to Russia, he woke up to a terrible ache in his lower abdomen and found that his period had come over. And to make it worse he bled through his favorite sweatpants.

Yuri grumbled as he carried his sheets and his sweatpants into the laundry room. Life was just terrible at the moment.

"Good morning Yuri," Yuuri smiled at him, he grimaced in return.

"It's not a good morning," Yuri frowned. "Everything sucks and my sweatpants are ruined. Those were my favorite pair."

"Fill the sink in the laundry room with cold water and let it soak, I'm doing laundry tonight anyway," Yuuri said.

"You can't clean it up for me it's disgusting," Yuri frowned even deeper. "I'll just have to get rid of them."

"Yura," Yuuri sighed. "I'm quite adept at getting stains out and I always wash your laundry. This is far less gross than the sweaty practice clothes I clean every week."

"Fine," Yuri grumbled, doing as Yuuri had said before joining him out in the living room.

Yuuri patted the spot on the couch next to him. "Come sit, Ill be right back."

Yuri perched on the very edge of the couch, holding his body rather stiff. He couldn't bring himself to be comfortable just yet. He could hear Yuuri banging around in the other room but he wasn't entirely sure what the man was doing.

He found out about fifteen minutes later when Yuuri came back out and took the seat next to him once again. "Here, I made you some tea," the mug was pressed into his hands. "And I grabbed some chocolate from the cupboard and a heating pad. We're going to have a movie day."

Yuri relaxed slightly at that. "Fine," he grumbled.

"Would you rather I call it a 'Yuri is grumpy and needs cheering up' day?" Yuuri asked. "Because I will."

"I'm not grumpy," Yuri took a sip of his tea, it was just how he liked it.

"You're a straight up grump," Yuuri smiled and ruffled his hair. "And you can't deny that."

"Well I have good reason to be," Yuri sighed. "I peaked at age fifteen, it's all downhill from here. Nobody is telling me anything, and don't say that's not true you're still keeping secrets from me, I can tell."

"You did not peak at fifteen, you still have a lot ahead of you," Yuuri said. "And you're right, you have reasons to be upset. It was perhaps unfair to keep the information a secret from you, but it's all been for your own good. As much as you hate to hear that. I know you're not a little kid and we haven't treated you as such, but you still are just a kid and some of this stuff is best handled by adults."

"I know," Yuri hated to admit it. He hated being treated like a child but he knew he wasn't an adult and if he had dealt with it himself it wouldn't have gone over well. "I just wish I would at least be told about what's going on. This is my life."

"I agree with that sentiment," Yuuri nodded. "I'll talk to the others about it and see if they'll be willing to keep you looped in. You're still a prime candidate out there so I doubt it'll be long before a major sponsor picks you up. You don't need to worry about money."

"Of course I do," Yuri furrowed his brow. "I went through the math of it and it will only last me a year at most."

"You did the math yourself?" Yuuri seemed impressed. "Where'd you learn to do that."

"That's not important," Yuri said. "But my grandfather taught me how to do finances back when I started contributing a lot of money to the household. It was an easy skill to pick up," he shrugged. "So yes, I do have to worry about money."

"If you would've let me finish I would explain that," Yuuri said. "Victor and I talked about it and we would be more than happy to cover you until you receive a substantial sponsor once again."

"I don't need your pity money," Yuri frowned.

"It's not pity," Yuuri sighed. "You know that. We consider you family at this point, and it's our choice to help. Plus, Victor's bank account isn't going to suffer in the process."

"We're not family," Yuri sounded bitter. "Why does everybody keep pushing that on me." He set his empty mug down on the side table roughly the noise causing his cat to startle. He felt slightly bad about that.

"Family doesn't have to be by blood Yura," Yuuri set a hand on his shoulder. "You always sound so angry when anyone mentions family."

"How else am I supposed to react?" Yuri curled in on himself. "Everybody else is out there with their perfect families and their perfect lives and I'm stuck with nobody."

"There are plenty of people there for you," Yuuris voice was soothing. "And it's never perfect below the surface, you just have to make what you have work for you."

"Yeah, I guess," Yuri shrugged. He wanted to consider them family and he did in a way, but it was hard to think people could care about him that way.

"As far as I'm concerned, you're family," Yuuri smiled. "Now let's get to that movie day."

"What are we watching?" Yuri asked. He was glad to get away from the serious talk, it was a lot to think about.

"We can either marathon one of the movie series Victor has or put on a movie channel," Yuuri said. "So what'll it be? Harry Potter, Star Wars, crappy daytime tv, the King and the Skater, marvel movies."

"Harry Potter sounds fine," Yuri said. "I haven't seen those in forever."

"I'll put it on then," Yuuri got up and found the movies. "Do you want to go grab a blanket or something. Anything to make yourself comfortable."

Yuri hopped up and grabbed the fluffy blanket from his room, he had claimed it as his own quite some time ago. It was comfortable and he loved it. Soft fluffy blankets were always there for him.

Once he returned, Yuuri had the movie ready to go and a few healthy snacks set out for them. "Victor is still bitter about you stealing that," he gestured to the blanket Yuri had wrapped around his shoulders. "I don't blame you though."

"It's a soft blanket," Yuri said, tugging it tighter around himself and climbing back into the couch. "Mine."

"Very soft," Yuuri agreed and sat down. "I'm starting the movie are you okay with that?"

Yuri shifted around a little bit to find the most comfortable position. He ended up with his shoulder pressed against Yuuris and his body curved in such a way to alleviate cramps as much he could. "Yep, I'm good."

"Do you want the heating pad for that?" Yuuri asked. "It's a lot better than holding your hand against it."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," Yuri nodded, pointedly looking away. He didn't like acknowledging his period because that just made him feel more dysphoric.

"Here you go," Yuuri handed him the heating pad and the warmth of it against his lower abdomen was a welcome relief.

They sat in silence as the movie played, it had been long enough since Yuri had seen it that he found himself surprised by some of what happened on screen. They sat through the first two movies and part of the third before an alarm on Yuuris phone pulled both of their attentions away from the show.

"Oops, I forgot about that," Yuuri quickly turned it off. "I knew I was missing something this morning," he paused the show and stood up.

"What'd you forget?" Yuri asked, he had been rather invested in the scene that was playing. "Don't make me wait forever, it was getting good Katsudon."

"It's my shot day, I forgot to do it when I got up up, I have that alarm set as a reminder in case I forget," Yuuri told him. "I'll just be a few minutes. No, actually I'll make us some sandwiches to eat as well."

"Oh," Yuri frowned. "You'd better take care of that then." He wasn't trying to sound upset, but that statement had felt like a punch to the gut. Here he was suffering through the worst reminder of how his body was, and Yuuri was just talking about what he had that Yuri desperately wanted.

"Oh Yura, I'm sorry," Yuuri ruffled his hair. "I shouldn't go around flouncing that in front of you."

"It's fine," Yuri sighed. "Go stab yourself in the leg already and get our lunch ready, I'm hungry."

Yuri pulled himself back into a stiff position and pulled his phone out. He had a variety of notifications, most of which were about his sponsor dropping him. Apparently the company had made a statement regarding that. He decided to pull it up and read it:

_In regards to Yuri Plisetsky:_

_After much debate, we have decided to retract our sponsorship with young Plisetsky. Our ideals as a company are no longer in line with his ideals. Since Plisetsky is no longer providing the image we want for our company, we have finalized the process of cutting ties with him. We will maintain our contract until the end of its term which is coming up in January and in the meantime, we are looking for a new athlete to be the face of our company._

Yuri scoffed at that. They might as well have just said they didn't want to be associated with a transgender athlete, everybody who gave it more than half a second worth of thought would be able to know that was the reason. It was honestly quite ridiculous.

The rest of his notifications seemed to be revolving around the picture JJ had posted of the two of them with their medals. Apparently it was big news that they were on friendly terms with each other and their respective fan bases were blowing the whole thing up. That was at least better than the sponsorship thing.

He directed himself to one of his favorite accounts, a rescue sanctuary for big cats, and he scrolled through pictures of that until Yuuri came back. He half envied the animals, they didn't have a sense of gender identity. Sometimes he wished humans didn't either.

"I wasn't sure if you would want it put together or not so I left the components separate," Yuuri handed him a paper plate with some bread, turkey, cheese, and lettuce laid out on it.

"Thanks," Yuri said. He wasn't always a big fan of his sandwiches being put together and usually only ate them that way out of convenience. He was always more picky while he was on his period though and it seemed Yuuri had noticed that. He was quite thankful that it was all separated, he didn't think he could handle the flavor of it all at once.

"I'm starting the movie again," Yuuri said.

Yuri nodded and picked at his food slowly, he finished eating about the time the movie ended. He started to grow sleepy part of the way into the next movie and soon found himself slumped against Yuuri. He hadn't slept very well the past few days due to all the worrying he had been doing. And Yuuri was warm and surprisingly comfortable considering he was a professional athlete in the middle of a season.

Yuri felt safe enough around the other man, that when Yuuri shifted and gently repositioned him so that he was lying horizontal with his head on Yuuris lap, he didn't fight in the slightest. He was warm and comfortable and the low murmur of the movie worked as a lullaby of sorts. The last thing he noticed before falling asleep was the gentle running of fingers through his hair.

It was quiet in the room and dark outside when he awoke again. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and rolled over onto his back. Yuuri had moved at some point and was sitting on one of the chairs reading a book with Empress on his lap and Makkachin at his feet. "Traitor cat," Yuri mumbled, still half asleep. "You're not supposed to like him."

"Don't be jealous Yura," Yuuri said without looking up from book. It was in Japanese so Yuri couldn't tell what it was.

"My cat," he said. "She's supposed to love me the most."

"It's not my fault animals like me," Yuuri said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Is your fault," Yuri yawned. "I'm still tired."

"Well it's almost nine, you slept for most of the day," Yuuri told him. "You should probably eat something now."

"Oh," Yuri as thought it was earlier than that. "That's pretty late."

"I can heat up a can of soup for you," Yuuri offered. "Why don't you go take a shower and change into pajamas. I did the laundry while you were out so you have clean clothes on your bed."

"Soup sounds fine," Yuri slowly moves into a sitting position and then stood up. "And a shower sounds nice. I will go do that."

He still felt rather groggy as he made his way into the bathroom. He really hadn't intended to sleep for that long it had just happened, he hoped it wouldn't keep him awake all night.

The shower took forever to get warm due to how cold it was outside and Yuri was mildly impatient with it. He wanted to get it over with as soon as possible and then get himself food, his stomach was starting to rumble. The water was almost scalding by the time he finally stepped in and he winced slightly upon feeling it on his back but he didn't turn the temperature down.

The intense heat gave him something to focus on that wouldn't cause dysphoria and that was something to be grateful for. His skin was bright red upon getting out and he shivered as he searched for a towel. The bathroom didn't connect to the heating system directly so it got cold in there quite easily.

Once he dried off he settled for a set of pajamas that wasn't his favorite and went back out into the kitchen. "I hope you didn't use up all the hot water," Yuuri teased upon seeing him. "We only had chicken noodle, is that fine?"

"Sounds good to me," Yuri plopped down on one of the stools. "I'm starving."

"Here you go then," Yuuri slid a bowl to him and then sat down with one of his own.

Yuri ate quickly and quietly without acknowledging Yuuri beyond a grateful nod for making him dinner. "Thanks for today," he said after a while. "It was a nice comfort."

"I'm glad you think so," Yuuri smiled. "I was hoping to cheer you up a little bit. You've been so upset lately."

"I know," Yuri sighed. "I should stop that."

"You've had good reason to be upset," Yuuri said. "You can't control everything and nobody is blaming you for being upset about it. I'd just like to help you out in any way I can."

"I know," Yuri repeated. "I should thank you for that more often."

"You don't have to," Yuuri told him. "I do it because I care about you."

"Yeah, I know," there really wasn't anything else he could say. "I think I'm going to go to bed now." He got up and put his bowl in the sink before heading towards his room, only stopping to pick Empress up on his way. He wanted to have his cat with him.

Empress took her spot on the spare pillow on his bed, right next to where he slept. He buried a hand in her soft fur and lied down on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow. He had spent the whole day sleeping but he was still tired.

The next morning he woke up feeling heavy and groggy, a clear sign that he had overslept. His cat was no longer in the room which meant Yuuri had to have let her out at some point. He didn't know why he hadn't been woken up though. They were supposed to practice with Lilia that day and she was a stickler for punctuality.

After getting dressed her trudged out into the kitchen and found Yuuri sitting on one of the stools with his laptop out. "Why didn't you wake me?" Yuri yawned. "We have practice, Lilia will kill me."

"Don't worry about that," Yuuri looked up from whatever it was he was doing. "We're working on something else today."

"What are we working on?" Yuri furrowed his brow. Besides ballet and actual skating he couldn't think of what else they would do.

"Take a seat," Yuuri pulled the stool next to him out. "We're gonna do our homework. I've got multiple videos of parts of our routines to watch."

"And why does that matter? We don't even know if I qualified," Yuri slumped down onto the chair.

"You have nationals and Europeans even if you don't make the final," Yuuri reasoned with him. "And analyzing your past performances is just as important as practicing is."

"Were watching yours too though right?" Yuri grumbled. If he had to watch this crap Yuuri better be doing the same.

"Yes of course, we'll watch both of your short programs first," Yuuri clicked on the first video.

Yuri winced as it played, he had refused to watch this until now and he hadn't known just how terrible a performance it was to watch. Watching himself self-destruct in competition was certainly not something he enjoyed. His form was off, his balance was shaky at best, and it was utterly lacking in the performance aspect which was saying a lot coming from him. "Fuck, it was that bad," he glowered at the onscreen him once the video ended.

"Now watch this one," Yuuri clicked on the next video without commenting.

If Yuri hadn't known better he would have thought the two performances had been skated by different people. He could see a change in himself as soon as he hit the ice. Whereas in the first video it was all haphazard anger guiding his movements, in the second the anger had melted away. What it left behind he was unsure of, but there was the faintest glimmer of something there, something that let him reach for what he needed.

"So what happened?" Yuuri asked. "Can you see what you did wrong and right?"

"I think that I was angry at myself for falling in the first one," Yuri guessed. "But I forgave myself for it in the second."

"Very good," Yuuri smiled. "Your theme is humility, but from the Chicago video I would guess that it's anger. I understand that it's easier for you to show that but it's not congruent with humility. In Paris something else was going on, I don't know what was going on in your head, but you seemed calmer more focused."

"Less of an arrogant ass you mean," Yuri said. "It's alright to say that."

"You looked more content," Yuuri ignored his statement. "Now I'm going to play two videos of my short. One taken during a practice and one in Canada. I want you to tell me how it compares to yours."

Yuri didn't need to see the videos to know what he would find. When it came to the performance aspect, Yuuri was practically unbeatable. Though there were technical inconsistencies, his story always shone through.

The first video was slightly shaky having been taken on a cellphone camera from the side of the rink. Yuuri wasn't in his costume but that didn't matter much. It was a full run through of the routine with music and everything. He could tell that it obviously wasn't super recent based on the jump composition. There were a few flubbed jumps and botched spins, but nevertheless it was better than his Chicago performance.

The second video was of much better quality. It was a program that absolutely demanded the full undivided attention of anyone watching. And Yuuri managed to pull that off in a way most people couldn't. It was hard to look away from even when Yuuri over-rotated a jump and went crashing to the ice. It was the kind of program that even those barely paying attention would remember.

"You're better than me," Yuri admitted. That was the only conclusion he could reach after watching that, as much as it stung to say.

"No," Yuuri shook his head. "That's not true and that's not the point I was making."

"Well that program is far better than mine," Yuri said. "So that's the only thing to say."

"It may have scored higher but that's still not true," Yuuri sighed. "And your technical score in Paris was higher than mine in Canada."

"It's still better than mine was," Yuri frowned. He didn't understand why Yuuri was arguing with him on this, there was clearly a difference between them.

"Why do you think it's so good?" Yuuri asked.

"Well.." Yuri trailed off, that was hard to put in words. "It demands attention, you can't look away," he grumbled. "Like Victor always says, it's like you make music out there."

"I'm telling a story," Yuuri said. "That's all there is to it. I have the story in here and here," he tapped his head and his heart. "And all I'm doing is telling everybody else."

"You make that sound so easy," Yuri was frustrated. "How can you do that?"

"Would you like me to explain it?" Yuuri asked, hovering the cursor over the replay button.

"Yeah sure," Yuri sighed, it's not like it could hurt.

Yuuri started the video over. "It's the story of me realizing I was a boy, well that's the simple explanation. The music sounds like a lullaby at first sort of. That's when I was born when the doctor said 'it's a girl,'" Yuuri gestured towards the screen, he had slowed the rate of the video so his explanation would match up with it. "Now you see me as a really little kid, learning how to walk and run. That's where it looks like I'm about to fall down," it was a step sequence that would have landed a weaker skater flat on their face.

"This is just as much about childhood as it is my transition. Because when I was little they were the same thing," Yuuri told him. "Now this is me figuring out that there's something different about me, but it's also when I started ballet and skating. It's all an intertwined journey," he smiled. "The music is getting bolder, more curious. Then confused. It's playing more than one melody at once," Yuri hadn't noticed that before. "And now it's crystal clear. That's when I decided I was a boy, when I realized what is was that made me the way I am," it was paired with a triple axel that he executed perfectly. "It's about growing up and fighting to discover who you are. It could be the story of anyone's childhood, but i make it mine."

"Yeah, guess I see that," Yuri nodded. "It's very you. But how does that help me with my program."

"Well, what's your story?" Yuuri asked. "What are you telling the world when you skate that?"

"I don't know," Yuri frowned. "It's supposed to be about somebody arrogant learning humility but i don't know how to make that into a story." That was his problem, he couldn't fell the emotions well enough to show it that way and he didn't know how to make it a story.

"What's the story about?" Yuuri asked him. "How does it go?"

"I don't know," Yuri practically shouted, only feeling slight bad about that. "I'm not good at this. What story do you see?"

Yuuri pulled up the video from Paris and played that. "I'd say it's about a prince," he told him. "Someone who has held himself above others for so long he can't see eye to eye with them. But then a war comes to the kingdom and the prince must lead the army and none of them respect him. The battle is lost and he's taken out of the fight and sent to a rearguard group far from the action. The war is quickly over and the prince is still expected to train with his group. He learns that they're all people to and how not to be angry all the time. And when the time comes for him to take the throne, he is a great leader because of it."

Yuri could see that almost. He could definitely see himself as an arrogant prince at first. It made sense with the flow of the program. "That sounds good actually."

"A story always helps," Yuuri told him. "You have to make it yours if you want to do well. Anybody could skate the program, but nobody can skate it your way."

"This was a terrible theme for me to choose," Yuri said. "I don't know how to be humble. I don't know what humility is."

"The simplest definition is the lack of being overly proud," Yuuri said. "But we all know it's more than just that. It wouldn't make a great theme if it weren't."

"Yeah," Yuri nodded. "I guess it's like being confident in yourself and knowing you can do well, but not dwelling on that. Your ability to do well isn't what's important. Wanting to show others what you can do for the purpose of sheer enjoyment not to brag."

"I'd say you have a good grasp on what it means for you," Yuuri told him.

"What does it mean to you?" Yuri asked, he was curious and hearing other ideas about it could help him portray it better.

"Humility is taking a step back and saying 'thank you for everything, I have no complaint whatsoever at all' when absolutely everything is falling apart on you," Yuuri said. "It's holding the door open for the person behind you even though they've been making rude comments about you. It's taking all of the bad the world throws at you and throwing it right back in the form of something good."

Yuri thought about that for a minute. It wasn't something he would have considered. "So it's like responding with kindness when you have every right to be angry?"

"That's another way to put it," Yuuri nodded. "It's certainly hard to explain."

"That was helpful though," Yuri half smiled. "I'll keep it in mid when I kick your ass at the final."

"So humble Yura," Yuuri teased. "We have more videos to watch now."

Yuri hugged and turned back to the screen. He didn't really feel like spending the next few hours analyzing every move of both his and Yuuris programs but that's what he did. How there were so many he wasn't aware of he didn't know. Yuuri had somehow gotten ahold of most of the recordings from his junior career and had him watch them in order and explain how he had improved and what he still had to improve on. It was quite tiring.

"You're not even a coach," Yuri grumbled, his cheek pressed against the countertop. It had been over two hours now. "Why must you torture me so?"

"It was this or Lilia's studio," Yuuri reminded him. "I can tell you're still cramping badly. Don't you think this is better?"

"If you ever become a coach you'd be a terrible one," Yuri said. It wasn't what he actually thought he was just tired of watching those videos.

"Actually I got my degree in psychology and biology with a minor in dance," Yuuri laughed and ruffled his hair. "But I wouldn't mind being an assistant coach someday if that's what Victor decides to do after retiring."

"Dance, psychology, and biology? That's a lot," Yuri sat back up. "How did you even have the time?"

"It worked out," Yuuri shrugged. "Now come on. We still have more videos to watch. You can laugh at these ones, they're of me."

"Alright fine," Yuri huffed. "These better be super embarrassing though. You got to see that one from when I was twelve," he shuddered at the thought.

Yuuri scrolled through the list before selecting one of the oldest videos. "If you want embarrassing here you go."

It was from when Yuuri was still pretty young, probably not any older than ten. In the video he still had long hair and was in a dress. It looked to be taken after a friendly competition of sorts. "Airi, Airi! You gotta do that again," a little kid in the video called out.

Onscreen Yuuri then skated a lap and did some sort of shaky spin type thing that landed him on the ice all tangled up in the dress that was a bit long to skate in in the first place.

That was just about all there was to the clip. "You were so small," Yuri laughed. "I bet I would've done that better."

"I was a little kid," Yuuri said. "Not exactly graceful on my feet yet. We weren't all prodigies or geniuses like some people I know." Yuri knew he was talking about him and Victor, though the title prodigy wasn't used as heavily for him anymore.

"You're still pretty good though," Yuri told him with a look that said _if you repeat that ever I will murder you._

"Thanks Yura," Yuuri smiled and pulled up another video. This type they watched a progression of Yuuri getting better.

"Wow your jumps suck," Yuri teased at one point. "You really couldn't land a quad salchow. Seriously, you managed the toe loop way before the salchow. The salchow is so much easier."

"I know you think that, but that was a very difficult jump for me," Yuuri said. "Why do you think I didn't learn it until last season really."

"Because you suck," he kept his tone playful so it couldn't be misinterpreted. He knew Yuuri would sometime take comments like that to heart and it would interfere with his skating. Yuri didn't want to say anything that would cause him anxiety. "Because quads are difficult," he supplied his real answer.

"That's true," Yuuri nodded. "They are difficult. Do you know why I asked you to teach me that jump and not Victor?"

Yuri did not know. He had assumed it was because the older man was embarrassed to tell Victor he couldn't land a quad salchow, but he was starting to think that wasn't why. "I thought you didn't want Victor knowing you couldn't land it."

"Partially yes," Yuuri nodded. "But it was because nobody else could teach me how to land it. They tend to forget that my body is different from theirs since I'm on hormones and have had surgery."

"Really?" Yuri asked. "You asked me because of that."

"Yes," Yuuri nodded again. He pulled up two videos and showed them side by side. One of Yuri doing a quad salchow and one of Victor doing it. "See how you enter the jump, you do it slightly differently than he does. You were able to teach me it in a way that my body could do much more reliably than the way Victor had shown me. It's never been a problem with other jumps but that one was just difficult."

Yuri could see the slight difference in the technique. It wasn't big enough to be extremely noticeable unless someone was actually trying the jump themselves. He was actually rather proud to hear that he had taught Yuuri how to do it because nobody else could. It wasn't often he was told he could do something that no other boy could do. "Well you made yourself looked like a loser out there," Yuri rolled his eyes. "I had to help you with it, you were a disgrace to my favorite jump."

"Some of it was nerves," Yuuri laughed. "I've gotten a little better about that though."

"Yeah yeah I know," Yuri waved his hand. "Can we be done now? I'm starving."

"I was thinking we should watch a few more videos," Yuuri had a straight face. "We still have a bunch of files from last season that we haven't looked into. An analysis of everything you did wrong and right in those videos might be helpful."

"Oh come on," Yuri groaned, dropping his head to the countertop with a soft thud. "You're worse than Yakov and Lilia combined. I hate you." That was when he realized Yuuri was laughing.

"I'm just kidding," Yuuri now had a sly grin on his face. "There's nothing left to be gained from watching those clips. You have a good idea of what to work on the next week. And you're, it's time to eat."

"I hate you," Yuri glared at him. "You should know better than to keep a man from his food."

"A man?" Yuuri questioned. "All I hear is whiny boy."

Yuri stuck his tongue out at Yuuris back. He was extremely justified in his actions. He was a hungry hungry person right then.

"Don't make that face Yura," Yuuri said without looking behind him. "And don't pretend I don't know what face you are making. I'm gonna cook some of the frozen chicken, is that good with you?"

"I'm hungry enough to eat a sandwich with mustard," Yuri replied. He wasn't really, no amount of hunger would make mustard appealing it was bitter and sour and ruined everything it touched. "Hurry it up though I need food."

"How about you take Makkachin out for his walk while I cook," Yuuri suggested. "That way good will be done when you get back."

Yuri hopped up and grabbed the dogs leash. "Okay fine," normally he wouldn't agree so easily but he didn't want to sit around and smell the food as it cooked. That would be torture.

He found the slobbery excuse for a pet asleep on the couch and poked him awake before clipping the leash to his collar. Makkachin was very excited about that and pulled him straight to the door making him regret not pulling on his shoes and jacket beforehand, a task that proved rather difficult with a canine trying to trip him.

"This is why cats are better," he glared at the dog as they left. Of course the dog didn't care and happily stayed by his side, occasionally stopping to sniff at a patch of rocks.

It was only about a half an hour or so before sunset and there were a few other people out. He managed a friendly wave at most of them and got one in return. Victor's neighborhood really was a nice place. The people tended to run friendlier than what Yuri was used to. Though to be fair, most of his experience with people was at an ice skating rink or traveling.

The walk gave him time to think. He still hadn't quite sorted out what he was feeling about the whole sponsor thing, but he was quickly coming to the conclusion that it didn't matter. He didn't know when he had begun to think that way, but suddenly he was realizing that people who couldn't accept him didn't matter. It was a nice thought to have.

He smiled when he got to his favorite part of the walk. One of the corner houses he always passed had an outdoor cat who got along with Makkachin and he would always spend a couple minutes petting the cat when it was outside which it was currently. "Aren't you just the prettiest thing," he cooed, patting it on the head. "Don't worry, I won't tell Empress I'm cheating on her, she'd be jealous." The cat rubbed its face against his leg and purred.

He stayed there for a few more minutes before continuing his walk, leaving with a promise that he'd see the cat again. On the way back to Victor's, Makkachin seemed slightly more curious about what was around them and stopped to sniff at almost every rock, which was slightly annoying. "Cmon Makkachin, I'm hungry. There is nothing interesting about that rock. Or that one. They're all the same," he tugged the leash a little harder to pull him away. "I'll give a little bite of chicken when we get home."

He could've sworn the stupid thing understood that because he stopped yanking on the leash. The dog must've known he was a cat person because it was always so much better to Victor and Yuuri than it was to him.

"Is it done now?" He called out once he arrived back. "I need food before I wither away."

"You're being dramatic now," Yuuri said. "And I just finished, I cooked up some broccoli as well and some of that quick rice stuff."

Yuri I clipped the leash and tossed his jacket and shoes aside, he was a man on a mission. The food couldn't have tasted any better but that was probably his hunger speaking. Yuuri pretended not to notice when he slipped a bite to the dog.

After he had finished up and washed the dishes he made to go to his room for the night but Yuuri stopped him. "Yura," Yuuri held his shoulder loosely.

"What now?" Yuri huffed. Yuuri had been on his laptop the whole time they were eating so he didn't know why he'd be talking now.

"I'm making some online purchases," Yuuri told him. "And I told you I'd but you a new binder if you'd like. Would you want that?"

Yuri's face practically flowed at the offer. "Yes! Please. Thank you thank you."

"I'll need to measure your chest," Yuuri said. "Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah I guess," Yuri wasn't too happy about the prospect merely because he didn't like thinking about his chest, but a new binder would certainly be worth a few seconds of discomfort.

"I already have a tape measure ready, so could you just hold your arms out slightly," Yuuri unraveled the tape measure. Yuri did as he was told and lifted his arms. "You have rather broad shoulders for your build," Yuuri said, obviously talking to distract Yuri. "That's a good thing to have if you want to look more masculine, I'm sure you rather appreciate it."

"Yeah I guess so," Yuri shrugged slightly, accidentally knocking the tape from Yuuris grip. "Sorry," he winced as Yuuri brought it back up. "Finding clothes that fit nice can be hard."

"Yeah, I understand that," Yuuri nodded. "Okay, that's all done you can put your arms down." Yuri did so gratefully. "What size is your current binder?"

"Um, and extra small I think," Yuri couldn't quite recall. "My chest is pretty tiny."

"Sounds about right. Your chest measurements put you in an extra small," Yuuri pointed at the website he had up. "Though a small would be more comfortable to pull on with your shoulders. I could get you one of each if you'd like. One for a more flat look and one for a more relaxed day of binding."

Yuri found himself nodding eagerly. "I would really like that," he smiled. "It would be nice to have more than one."

"Alright, do you want to pick the colors?" Yuuri handed the laptop to him.

His current binder was white but he wasn't sure if he wanted another white one. He found the skin colored ones and picked the tone closest to his skin color. "I think I want the extra small in this color and a small in grey," he decided. Neither of those would be to conspicuous under his normal clothing.

"Alright, sounds good to me," Yuuri added them to his cart and ruffled his hair again. "You'll be downright handsome in these. They should get here in time for you to wear one to the banquet for the final."

"Thank you," Yuri grinned and threw his arms around the other man, surprising both of them. "Thank you so much."

"No problem Yura," Yuuri smiled at him fondly. A look that was usually reserved for katsudon, or animals, or Victor when he did something stupid.

"I'm going to bed now," Yuri announced and went straight to his room. He still had a ridiculous grin on his face when he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look it's over 7k again. That's a lotta words. I feel like this ended up less entertaining than I was hoping. But yeah. I've basically given Yuri my eating habits and body type, oops. 
> 
> So the next chapter is probably going to be scenes between now and the final because I don't have a solid idea for one chapter but I don't want to skip almost three weeks of storyline. Timelines are terrible terrible things let me tell you. 
> 
> As always, I'd love to hear what you're thinking. Is there a specific direction you'd like to see this going? What do you think will happen next? Really just any opinions would be nice.


	16. Of Qualifiers and Family

The week passed rather quickly, the days filled with long practice sessions with Lilia. Yuri didn't get to step on the ice once and he was sorely missing it almost as much as he was sore.

His limbs ached by the end of each day and more than once he fell asleep in the living room slumped against Yuuri only to wake up the next morning in his bed. And then it was rinse and repeat. By the end of the week he was ready to crawl into bed for the weekend and not move ever again.

It seemed that Yuuri wasn't going to let him do that though. No matter how hard he tried he always got drug back into the living room for one reason or another. If he had to guess he would say it was partially because Yuuri liked to have a little bit of company and was missing Victor. It was all over the mans face. "You're pining again," Yuri lightly punched Yuuri on the arm. "Absolutely sappy idiocy. You'll see him in a few days. And he'll be one the screen in an hour or so. You saw his short program yesterday, you were on the phone with him for hours."

Yuuri had a faraway look in his eyes. "I know," he smiled. "But it's been a week and I was originally planning on going with him so I'd be mostly adjusted for when I get to Japan for the NHK trophy."

Yuri wriggled in slight shame, it was his fault Yuuri had stayed. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," Yuuri gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Spending time with you this week had been nice, I'm glad you allowed it."

"I guess you're not totally awful," Yuri sucked his head. He still wouldn't admit that he liked spending time with him as well. Even though everybody knew Yuuri was one of the biggest components of his support system.

"That's very nice of you to say," Yuuri smiled. "Do you wanna sit with me to watch the free skate. I know you're excited to see how Otabek does." Yuuri made room next to him so that Yuri could sit.

It was a spot that Yuri gladly took. Yuuri was extremely comfortable to sit close to. It was a comfort to have someone so supportive close to him and sometimes he would get his hair braided while he sat which was also nice. Not to mention that Yuuri was very warm. Yuri didn't produce much body heat, but Yuuri was practically a furnace. Probably the reason why Empress liked him so much.

Yuri absentmindedly fiddled around on his phone as he cuddled into Yuuris side. Not that he was really cuddling, he was a strong manly male who didn't need to cuddle, it was warm is all. Yeah, he just wanted to be warm.

The men's free skate was about to take place. The short program had been fun to watch the day before. Victor was unsurprisingly in first followed by Otabek. Georgi was also competing and he was in fourth currently. Yuri didn't take much note of the other three skaters, none of them had a shot at qualifying.

JJ and Christophe had already qualified. There was no way that Victor wouldn't secure his spot tonight. Yuuri was also basically guaranteed a spot. That left two spots open likely to go to himself, Otabek, Seung-Gil Lee, or Phichit Chulanont. The results would be determined by the end of the next week.

As the rankings stood, it looked like Victor was favored to win the Cup of China which was what everyone was expecting. Otabek was expected to take second and Georgi third. Yuri just had to hope that the NHK Trophy results wouldn't edge him out of the final. He really wanted to prove himself again.

"Would you like me to make popcorn?" Yuuri asked with s smile on his face. "The free skate will start in about five minutes."

"Yes," Yuri nodded. He made no effort to move so Yuuri could get up though.

"Well you'll need to let me go then," Yuuri laughed. "You're quite the octopus."

Yuri lifted his arms and legs at his sides and moved them in his best octopus impression. "Vuum vuum blubba bah," he made a series of noises. "I am an octopus didn't you know?"

Yuuri ruffled his hair and stood up. "You sound more like s dying cat engine Yura, very scary."

Yuri stuck his tongue out. He made a wonderful octopus, Yuuri was just jealous of his impeccable imitation skills, that's definitely what it was.

When Yuuri came back with a fresh bowl of popcorn a few minutes later Yuri took no time before stuffing a handful in his mouth. He tried to avoid eating too many treats close to competition so he hadn't really had a not super healthy snack recently, though popcorn actually wasn't very unhealthy especially when it wasn't drowned in butter. Not that this batch wasn't drowned in butter because it was. "Save some for me why don't you," Yuuri laughed, re-situating himself on the couch.

Yuri curled back into his side almost immediately and took another handful of popcorn. "No it's mine," his voice came out muffled around the food on his mouth.

"Those who don't share have to sit by themselves," Yuuri poked him on the cheek. "You seem a bit too cozy for that."

"Fine," Yuri huffed. "You can have some too. But I'm only sitting with you out of pity cause you're pining for Victor."

"If you say so," Yuuri ruffled his hair. "Now hush, the programs are starting."

The first skater was from Spain and that's really all Yuri knew about him. It wasn't a bad program but against the likes of Victor Nikiforov, it might as well be child's play. It was certainly more polished than the mans short had been the day before though. The man ended up scoring a personal best.

Yuri didn't bother to pay much attention to the next skater and instead focused most of his attention on picking out all of the best popcorn pieces from the bowl on Yuuri's lap. It was only when Yuuri lightly bumped him with his elbow that he looked up again. "Georgi's up," he said. "You should watch."

Georgi was also much better at conveying emotion in his skating than Yuri was, sometimes he even got a bit too good at it. But his program at least wasn't about trying to curse his ex this time around. Since love was pretty Georgi's favorite theme, he often did some variation upon that. This season it wasn't about a specific person though.

Yuri was glad he had watched it, it was a great performance from his rink mate and it would be surprising if he didn't medal. Yakov would certainly enjoy having two skaters medal at the same even two weeks in a row. After his performance, Georgi was in first.

The next skater was that one American guy from Chicago who had done very poorly. He did much better than he had a done a few weeks prior, but there was no way he could qualify for the final.

Finally it was Otabek's turn and Yuri leaned forward in excitement. His friend had done extremely well the day before and was expected to do just as well in his free skate. There was only one problem. "Why the fuck is he limping?" Yuri demanded. "Did that idiot hurt himself, that asshole."

"He twisted his ankle either last night or this morning," Yuuri stated. "Didn't you see? There were articles about it everywhere."

"Idiot," Yuri frowned. He was supposed to have qualified for the final so Yuri could beat him again. "He'd better not hurt himself more."

It was obvious that his friend was skating with a minor injury. He could see it in the way his balance was thrown off and the jump composition was simplified. Yuri winced every time Otabek landed a jump. It was painful to watch.

Otabek fell to fifth after that rather disastrous performance. The only thing keeping him from last was his excellent score from the day before. Yuri could tell his friend was upset about what had happened out there.

"That was impressive for skating on a hurt foot," Yuuri commented. "I'm sure he'll be back at it again by Worlds."

Yuri nodded, he certainly hoped that would be the case. He hadn't had an opportunity to skate against Otabek since Worlds the year before and he wanted to do so again. "He'd better be," Yuri said. "Now look it's the geezer, watch him and stop your pining."

Yuuris expression softened when he saw Victor take to the ice and Yuri fake gagged. They were both too sappy for their own good and Yuri almost couldn't handle it.

Victor's program felt more real than anything he had skated in a couple years, a fact Yuri teased him about relentlessly at practice. But nobody could say it wasn't a thoroughly amazing program. Yuri was so used to how Victor was all the time that he almost forgot that once he was on the ice and performing Victor became something else.

Victor made a show of kissing his ring before starting his skate and Yuuri did the same with his. "Sap," Yuri mumbled.

"Hush," Yuuri didn't bother looking at him. Those two really would be the death of him someday.

It was obvious that the routine was inspired by Yuuri, Victor had incorporated his style into his own and made a program that truly was a tribute to the Japanese man. It was disgustingly sappy.

There was no point in making any comments about the performance, Yuuris focus was completely on the screen. Yuri didn't think he would hear anything he said.

When the program ended he heard Yuuri left out a breath he had been holding. Victor had clearly taken first, there was nobody there who had even rivaled his presence. It was kind of annoying really.

"You can breath now," Yuri rolled his eyes. "We all knew he would qualify."

"He's just so..."Yuuri's eyes were shining.

"Victor Nikiforov, my life, my love, my fiancé," Yuri imitated Yuuri's voice. "I've heard it all."

"That is not what I sound like,"  Yuuri said.

"Okay fine that's more a Victor thing to say but you're ridiculous too," Yuri rolled his eyes. "Just get fucking married already."

"You know you'll have to come to the wedding, we were thinking you'd make a good ring bearer," Yuuri grinned. "You're not getting out of it."

"Ew," Yuri wrinkled his nose. He was actually quite touched that they would want him in the wedding. "I'm going to my room now, I'm gonna go bug Otabek, he looked sad."

"You're a good friend Yura, that sounds like a good idea," Yuuri shifted to let him get up easier.

After extracting himself from Yuuri's side Yuri went straight to his room and began texting Otabek.

**Yuri** : you did great out there no matter what anyone says man. a fuckin sprained ankle has nothing on you. you'd better fix that by Worlds though  
 **Yuri** : I'm gonna text u until you reply  
 **Yuri** : nonoptional best friend order here  
 **Yuri** : I will wait  
 **Otabek** : Thanks Yuri, that's kind of you, I really didn't do well  
 **Yuri** : you were the greatest don't lie Beks, it was good. tell me your theme   
**Otabek** : No way soldier boy, I may be upset but not that upset   
**Yuri** : I'm going to video call. you up for it?  
 **Otabek** : I don't think I'll be good company, I'm really shook up about what happened out there  
 **Yuri** : okay, I'm calling in five be ready

True to his word, Yuri grabbed his laptop and initiated a video chat as soon as he had it loaded. "Hey, Beka," he smiled and waved.

Otabek's eyes were slightly red and it was obvious that he had cried a little bit, whether it was from not qualifying or his injury, Yuri wasn't sure. "I'm sure I look awful," Otabek was upset.

"You look like shit," Yuri wasn't going to lie about that. "But that's okay. Clean yourself up before Worlds though man, I need somebody there to compete against who isn't actually the worst."

"As long as I avoid lone steps I think I'll be fine," Otabek managed a weak smile.

"You tripped over a stair?!" Yuri couldn't contain his laughter. "You mean to tell me the great Otabek Altin, hero of Kazakhstan, tripped over a stair the morning of a competition and hurt himself."

"It's not funny," Otabek crossed his arms.

"Then why are you smiling?" Yuri teased.

"I'm not," Otabek was smiling. Only slightly but it was still there. "I'm very upset."

"Not too upset to talk to me," Yuri grinned. "You insisted on friendship. Let me smother you in friendship."

"You certainly got more affectionate snide last year," Otabek pointed out. "I think Victor and Yuuri are rubbing off on you."

"That Katsudon and the geezer," Yuri gasped. "I'm nothing like them. You take that back right now."

"It suits you," Otabek said, in now way rescinding his prior statement. "You're happier. You were an angry kid last year. You're still a kid now, still angry too, but that's not what's driving you."

"Ah, whatever," Yuri waved it aside. "This call is about cheering you up. I hear sad music, are you playing your sad playlist?"

"Maybe," Otabek glanced away from the camera.

"No wallowing," Yuri stated. "You made me listen to happy music after I bombed it at Worlds last season. You have to too," he grabbed his phone and opened up a lighthearted playlist titled dance music. It was one Otabek had made. He turned the volume all the way up. "You gotta listen to this instead."

"Using my own advice against me," Otabek muttered. "I don't want that upbeat music right now."

"Too bad," Yuri grinned. He began to sing along as obnoxiously as possible knowing it would bother his friend. Otabek had perfect pitch and his terribly off key singing would certainly get him to say something.

"I know you can sing well Yuri," Otabek glared at him through the screen. "Stop this."

"Not until you join in," Yuri was thoroughly enjoying himself now. "And you know I can hit those high notes that you can't. I'm not afraid to hurt your ears."

"I will hang up on you," Otabek threatened.

"I'm your best friend," Yuri stayed proudly. "No you won't," he then continued to sing along but this time he at least sang more in key than before.

"I'm starting to doubt what I ever saw in you," Otabek gave a dramatic sigh and Yuri could tell his plan to cheer him up was starting to work. "I obviously chose the wrong person for best friend."

"Oh please," Yuri scoffed. "I'm your favorite and you'll get to see me soon in France. You said you were coming to the final regardless. Do you know how awkward it would be if you friend dumped me now?"

"I hate you," Otabek was smiling though.

"Liar," Yuri singsonged before jumping into the chorus of the song that was playing. It only took about ten minutes before Otabek joined in and started singing as well. At that point neither of them were really in key but it didn't matter, they were enjoying themselves. Yuri was glad to be able to cheer his friend up.

After a while of that Otabek began to yawn. "It's really late here," he said. "I need to get to bed."

"Okay Beks," Yuri smiled. "But no sad music, you did your best today so no moping."

"I am an adult, I don't need to take instructions from a child," Otabek sounded much happier than he had when they first started talking.

"This child is your best friend," Yuri reminded him. "Night."

"Sadly he is," Otabek sighed. "Goodnight," he ended the call.

Yuri was glad that he had been able to make Otabek smile a little bit. He knew how much it sucked to not perform up to expectations. He was glad that he would be able to see his friend in person soon.

He played around on social media for a while after that and went to bed early. He was going to have an extra rough practice the next day and with Yakov arriving back, he was in for some rather grueling few days.

The next day he went to stay with Lilia again and Yuuri got a plane to Japan. Yuri had wanted to go along but Yakov had insisted he stay and practice since the GPF was coming up quickly. He had not appreciated that at all and may have thrown a little bit of a fit about it.

He would have liked to go with Yuuri and Victor because they were going to be staying in Hasetsu with Yuuri's family for a few days before heading to Sapporo for the competition. He would've liked to use the hot springs and see everybody there again, but no he had to stay in Russia and skate.

He made sure both Lilia and Yakov were well aware of his unhappiness with the situation but he threw himself into practice anyway. It wasn't the same without Yuuri and Victor there though and he found that he was actually missing them.

He was impatient for the NHK Trophy to be over and seemed like it took forever for it to even start. When the event finally began screening he took a seat in front of Lilia's television and didn't move. This was going to decide if he made it to the final or not.

Yuuri was pretty much a shoe in and depending on how they scored, it was Phichit and Seung-Gil who were the most likely to possibly qualify. How well they did would determine if he made it. It would certainly be a small point margin.

The screening was putting a lot of focus on Yuuri most likely due to the fact that Victor was his coach. After watching probably the third interview with Yuuri, he could tell something was wrong with the older man. The look on his face was one he had seen before.

Yuri pulled his phone out immediately and began texting Victor.

**Yuri** : what did you do to Katsudon? He looks dead   
**Yuri** : please tell me you didn't fuck up again  
 **Yuri** : of you did ill kick you

Surprisingly he got a response only a few minutes later.

**Victor** : Yuuri had an attack earlier from the pressure I think, home territory expectations and all  
 **Victor** : I'm still not good at this  
 **Victor** : he's up first, that's his least favorite position   
**Victor** : I promise it wasn't my doing this time

Yuri could see that that was probably right by the way Yuuri was practically clinging to Victor as if he were a lifeline. Victor was not that great when it came to emotions though he had gotten leagues better since meeting Yuuri.

**Yuri** : don't be an idiot and mess this up more, he'd better qualify so I can kick his ass  
 **Yuri** : give him a hug, you know he needs reassurance  
 **Yuri** : vocal reassurance old man you've been living with him for over a year you can do it  
 **Yuri** : you're marrying the guy you had better be ready to do this forever   
**Victor** : you're right Yura, I do know what to do  
 **Yuri** : good, don't duck up

Yuri noticed that Victor and Yuuri didn't appear on screen again for a while which hopefully meant that Victor was calming Yuuri down. They appeared on camera once again about half an hour later, right before Yuuri was set to warmup. Whatever Victor had done had at least helped because Yuuri no longer looked like he was seconds away from crying.

Yuuri's nerves were apparent when he stepped out to begin his short, but they seemed to dissipate quickly. The ice tended to have that affect on most skaters.

Yuri was glad to see that Yuuri's performance turned out rather well, the man only falling once on a quad flip towards the end. It wasn't the strongest performance of his, but it was still rather good.

He didn't really pay much attention to the rest of the performances, the scores were all he cared about. None of them were so high that he was worried, but it was the free skate that would really determine everything. The stream for the day ended with Phichit in first, Seung-Gil in second, and Yuuri in third.

Based on how they had performed, Yuri guessed Phichit would take a spot for sure and it would be close with him and Seung-Gil. He couldn't do anything about at this point.

The next day, he sat in the exact same position with his eyes anxiously glued to the screen. He found himself chewing on his lower lip as the first few skaters performed.

He calmed down slightly when it was Yuuri's turn. There was no sign of the anxiety from the day before visible in the man's eyes. Yuri would almost go as far to say that this performance was better than Victor's from the week before, it was a perfect picture of what Yuuri was trying to convey with his skating. Yuri found himself actually clapping when the routine ended.

He watched the last two perform through his fingers. He was very worried about this. He couldn't even dare look at their scores after they had finished, all he knew was that Yuuri took gold and Phichit took silver. He didn't know how the scores had panned out.

Yuri turned the tv off and went into Lilia's kitchen to get himself food, worrying at his lip all the while. He had been too anxious to listen for the scores because as soon as he heard them he would know. That was a terrifying prospect.

Lilia joined him after a while but her face didn't give anything away. "Do you want to know?" She asked him.

"I don't know," Yuri had never been so worried to hear his rank before. This was the first season he had done as poorly as he had in qualifiers.

"You'll find out soon enough," she stated. "Everybody will text you their congratulations or their condolences. Better now than later don't you think?"

"Um I guess," Yuri stated at his bowl intently. "Yeah, tell me."

"Fifth," Lilia said, he looked up at that. "You beat Chulanont a fraction of a point. The line up is Victor, Jean-Jacques Leroy, Yuuri, Giacometti, and Chulanont."

"I'm in," a smile spread across his face. He honestly had started to think that he wasn't going to make it.

"Yes, you're in," Lilia smiled warmly. He could tell she was proud of him. "You did well."

"Thanks," he ducked his head and grinned. He had done it, he had really done it. Now he would work his ass off for the next week and go in and take the final by storm. He had done it last year he could do it again.

Yuri wore a dazed smile for the next few days and was extra affectionate when Yuuri and Victor came to pick him up. He was surprised they hadn't come back a day later so Yuuri could have spent his birthday with his family, but it was nice to have them back. They had gotten him around two in the morning the day of Yuuri's birthday.

Victor had woken him up a few hours later around eight. "Hey, Yurio," Victor whispered, gently shaking him awake. "Will you help me make his day the best ever?"

Yuri yawned and stretched, nodding as he slipped out of bed. "What do I gotta do?"

"I want to make him breakfast in bed and since there's no way he's waking up anytime soon I figured we'd have enough time to figure out pancakes," Victor grinned.

"Victor I swear to god if you get flour on me," Yuri glared at him. "Don't you even dare. I will skate over you at practice tomorrow. I dont care if you're still a champion."

Victor raised his hands in surrender. "I bought a mix, we just have to add water and eggs," he said. "You can do all the mixing."

"I'm doing this for Yuuri not you," Yuri stated.

"Great!" Victor was still grinning like the lovestruck idiot he was. "Let's get everything ready."

Yuri didn't let Victor come anywhere near the pancake mix. Even with all of his insistences that it would be fine, he did not trust the man anywhere near fine ingredients. Victor instead worked on bacon and eggs. The smell must have been enough to wake Yuuri up because he soon joined them.

"This was supposed to be a surprise darling," Victor pouted. "I was gonna bring it to you in bed."

"You're loud Victor," Yuuri smiled at him. "And this is perfect. Both of you are perfect."

"It was supposed to be special though," Victor was still pouting.

"Vitya," Yuuri looked at him lovingly. "It's special because you and Yura did it for me. You don't have to go out of your way to make my day great. Spending it with you is enough for me."

"Could you stop it with the sappiness?" Yuri complained. "There are children here who don't want to listen to this shit."

"Children don't swear Yuri," Victor teased.

"This one fucking does," Yuri stuck his tongue out.

"This day is already off to a great start," Yuuri laughed.

Breakfast went by with incident and they headed to the rink afterwards, spending a few hours skating. It was more for fun than anything though. They had the day off from practice.

After skating they went and watched a movie and then enjoyed a walk through the park near Victor's home. All three of them enjoyed themselves immensely. When they finally arrived back they went about making dinner.

"We're making katsudon," Victor announced. "Both because you took gold and it's your birthday. A special treat for you."

Yuuri was thrilled by that. "I almost wish we had stayed a day longer then, nothing beats my moms katsudon."

"Why'd you come back then?" Yuri asked. "We all expected you to stay with family."

Victor and Yuuri exchanged a look. "You're family too," is what Yuuri said after a minute of silence. "Now come on you two, lets work on dinner."

Yuri was taken aback by that statement, Yuuri had wanted to spend time with him. That was such a strange thought. He had had the opportunity to spend his birthday where he grew up with almost everybody who loved him but had chosen not to.

With Yuuri instructing them on what to do, the cooking process went rather smoothly and soon the house was filled with the beautiful smell of katsudon. It was wonderful.

"Yurio," Victor called for his attention. "Could you take Makkachin out for his walk? He's been cooped up at the neighbors for a whole week. This will be ready when you get back."

Yuri knew it was merely a plot to get him to leave so the other two could talk about something. The air had filled with a slight tension of words unspoken and he assumed that whatever it was was something he wasn't supposed to hear or something he wouldn't want to.

It was a little bit later than he would usually take the dog for a walk and as a result, it was pretty cold outside. Cold enough that he had decided to wear a coat of Victor's instead of one of his own since they were longer.

Makkachin seemed to agree that it was cold because he made less attempts at sniffing every possible object in their path. And as such, their walk was a lot faster than usual and both Yuri and the dog were eager to go back into the warmth.

Victor and Yuuri seemed to be deep in conversation when he entered and neither of them noticed his return. He took this as an opportunity to eavesdrop just a little bit.

"-should tell him," Victor was saying.

"We had decided on March though," Yuuri responded. Yuri didn't have the slightest clue what they were talking about. "Just to be sure its finalized."

"This has been in process for over a year though and it was expedited along," Victor replied. "Though it was only recently decided how exactly it would work out. Why wait longer?"

"Don't be hasty now love," Yuuri said. "It still isn't finalized, it almost is but not quite. You've managed to get this far without alerting him, you wouldn't want to change that now would you?"

Yuri didn't want to hear anymore. If it was something about him it probably wasn't anything he wanted to know. "It was freezing out there," he said loudly, alerting them to his presence. "Dinner had better be ready now, I didn't almost catch hypothermia for nothing." He was exaggerating of course, it hadn't been that cold though it was cold enough to be uncomfortable. He could withstand the cold he just didn't always prefer to.

Yuuri and Victor jumped apart and turned to him with smiles on their faces. "You're just in time," Yuuri said. "I was just about ready to put the bowls together. How about you wash your hands and Victor gets out the chopsticks."

The other two made no sign that they had been having a serious conversation beforehand. They just happily went about their business, it must not have been something terrible then.

They ate their meal in silence, all three of them practically shoveling the food into their mouths. It turned out a lot better than Yuri had been expecting though that was probably because Yuuri had taken over halfway through the process.

After they finished eating, Victor was practically buzzing with excitement. "Now for your gifts Yuuri!"

"You didn't have to get me anything," Yuuri said in a rush. "Really I don't need anything at all."

"Too bad," Yuri said, even he had made sure to get Yuuri a present. "You can't escape it with him. He'll find just about any occasion to give gifts."

"Stay here," Victor pushed Yuuri onto the couch. "I'll go get everything." Yuri went to grab his gift as well.

"You didn't have to get me anything Yuri," Yuuri smiled at him. "Really you didn't."

"I wanted to katsudon," Yuri half glared at him. "So you'd better enjoy it."

Victor joined them with his arms full of boxes just a minute later. "Here you go! It's all your my love."

"This is too much," Yuuri flushed as he began opening boxes. Victor had really gone all out and the pile in front of Yuuri seemed bottomless. "The scarf is nice, thank you. But did you have to buy ten different ones?"

"I didn't know which color would look best on you so I got them all," Victor grinned. Yuri snickered softly. It was such a Victor thing to do.

Some of the gifts were practical like the set of mugs with poodles printed on them, they really had needed more mugs. Some were just random knickknacks Victor had found and just had to give to Yuuri.

"You should open mine now," Yuri got impatient around the time Yuuri was halfway through the pile from Victor.

"Sure, hand it over," Yuuri held out his hands.

Yuri bit his lip and held the badly wrapped package out. Yuuri didn't say anything as he opened it. "I didn't know what to get you," Yuri said the words in a rush. "It's probably dumb. I can take it back, it just seemed like the cheesy kind of thing you might like."

Yuri wasn't super creative when it came to gift giving so he had just decided to get a photo of the three of them framed. The picture had been taken a few months ago. It was a photo of the three of them in front of a body of water. They were all laughing and Victor and Yuuri had their arms around one another as well as a hand on Yuri's shoulder. He remembered that Yuuri had really liked that picture. The frame wasn't anything too fancy, it was rather plain except for the etching at the top that read 'Family.' It had been a stupid decision made on impulse and Yuri quickly regretted it.

"I love it," Yuuri looked up at him with shining eyes. "This was a great gift Yuri. It means a lot." Both Yuuri and Victor encased him in a hug. He certainly hadn't been expecting that.

"Ack, lemme go, you're crushing me," Yuri tried his best at wriggling away after a minute.

"Never. You admitted that were a family," somehow Victor managed to squeeze tighter.

"It wasn't your gift you geezer," Yuri grumbled. "It was for Katsudon. It's just a dumb picture. You have more gifts let go."

It took another minute but they did finally let him go, both of them grinning ridiculously. Yuuri opened the rest of gifts, making a few comments about how Victor really hadn't had to spend so much on him. Victor brushed them all off and said that he'd do anything to make Yuuri smile, that of course resulted in the Japanese man blushing.

"Oh, I've got something for you Yura," Yuuri said once all the presents had been opened.

"It's your birthday though," Yuri was confused.

"Well you already knew about this anyway," Yuuri smiled and tossed a package at him. "Go on."

Yuri hesitated a second but tore it open, instantly lighting up when he realized what it was. "Id forgotten about these! Thank you this is amazing," he clutched the new binders to his chest.

"They got here faster than I was expecting," Yuuri smiled. "You can go try them on if you'd like."

Yuri nodded and rushed to his room. He decided to only try on the extra small. He tore his shirt off as well as the sports bra he had been wearing. The new binder looked so nice and it matched his skin tone really well.

He only got slightly stuck pulling it on. With some creative wriggling and dancing across the room he managed to to get it in place. He had forgotten how hard a brand new binder was to pull on, it would be so much easier once it was broken in. He took care to properly position his chest under and then looked in the mirror, grinning even wider at the sight. It worked wonders to make him look flat and he wished it could stay on forever.

Yuri didn't even bother pulling a shirt on over it before parading out into the living room. "Look, look, it fits so well," he raised his arms and gave a twirl, showing off how flat his chest was. "Thank you so much!"

"Yura you're so handsome," Yuuri clapped his hands.

"The handsomest boy that ever was," Victor seconded.

Yuri sighed out loud from pure joy. "I'm not handsome," he denied.

"Don't lie," Yuuri gasped. "You are the most handsome."

"My son, so grown up and handsome,"Victor wiped at fake tears. "He called us family and now he's gone and shown what a dapper young man he is, I can't handle this."

"You're being dramatic," Yuri rolled his eyes. "I'm going to change out of this, you'd better stop this before I'm back."

He was still grinning as he made his way back to his room. Pulling the binder off was a lot easier than getting it on had been though he really wished it could stay on longer. He changed into a soft t-shirt and his tiger print pajama bottoms and grabbed his fluffy blanket before heading back out.

They had moved Yuuri's presents aside and taken a seat on the couch while he had been changing. "There's room for you," Yuuri patted the spot next to him and Yuri gladly curled into his side.

"Thank you," Yuri grinned up at the other two. "Thank you so much."

"No problem at all," Victor smiled. "Anything to see that lovely smile of yours. We just want you to be happy."

"You're even more handsome when you're happy," Yuuri added.

"Even like this," Yuri joked, gesturing towards his pajamas.

"Very handsome," the other two said at the same time. Yuri rolled his eyes.

They had a movie on in the background but Yuri didn't really pay attention to it. He just sat there with a content smile on his face leaned against Yuuri. It was a good way to end the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look a fast update this time. Hope it's to everyone's liking. I kinda really over utilized time jumps in here but it's what I needed to happen in the chapter. It's more important a chapter than it might seem I guess. Next up is the GPF and I actually have some important stuff planned for that so yeah. 
> 
> I hope this was a good installment for y'all, I did write it fast so pardon any errors please. Opinions and feedback wanted. I love hearing what y'all think about this. Knowing what you like and you what you'd like to see helps me come up with ideas for parts I don't have decided just yet.


	17. Of Meet and Greets and Unexpected Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I did a thing here and I don't really know if anyone will like it. It just kinda happened so like here. Don't hate me 
> 
> Also I wrote most of this after midnight so pardon any errors, I swear I'll do some editing eventually

The days before flying out to Marseille for the final passed in a blur as days filled with nothing but intense training tended to do. Yuri was so caught up in the whirlwind of preparing that he had been surprised when he found himself at the hotel a few days before the competition was set to begin.

Between public practice sessions and interviews he didn't have much a chance to take a break for himself. Yakov had been sure to threaten him within an inch of his life if he were to step one toe out of line. He was to be in his absolute best behavior. That meant interacting with the fans and the other skaters as amicably as possible. He had even agreed to do a meet and greet with fans of his though he was mildly regretting that decision.

He was currently standing at the end of a line of overly excited fans. It was all to put up a good show. He had had Yuuri braid his hair for him and was wearing a Team Russia warmup jacket, it was a prototype design and was devoid of any logos from sponsors. Yakov had insisted he wear that one until he had a new sponsor and a new jacket was printed for him. Yuri felt perfectly justified in doing so, it felt great knowing that he would refusing to represent that company in the last month they were still giving him money. It was fitting. It also helped that the jacket was a size bigger than his usual one which worked to hide the the curve of his chest that wasn't hidden by his binder.

The meet and greet was held in the emceeing after the last public practice session and he was rather tired before it even started, but he knew he had to keep up appearances for the few hours it would last.

One of the first fans he met was a young mother who had brought her child with her. If he had to guess he would say she was about twenty and had probably had the kid around his age. "Mommy you're silly," the child laughed when they stepped up to get a picture with him. "I don't see no ice shoes."

"Hello there," Yuri crouched down and smiled at the little kid. "Did you come to see me skate?"

"Yeah but you don't got no ice shoes," the kid said. "Are you a boy or a girl?"

"I'm sorry," the mother picked her child up. "That's not polite darling," she scolded. "We'd just like a photo and an autograph and we'll be on our way, sorry for bothering you."

Yuri stood up and shook his head, he want going to be upset by a little kid asking that. "You've been no trouble," he smiled and uncapped his marker. "Who should I make this out to?"

"It's Eliza," the mother told him, spelling it out so he'd get it right.

"Well it was a pleasure meeting you Eliza," he handed her back the poster. "And what might your name be?" He asked the kid.

"May," they answered. "You didn't answer my question."

"May, don't be rude," Eliza frowned.

"It's okay," Yuri assured. "I'm a boy."

"But you did your hair like girls do," May said.

"Let me tell you a secret," Yuri leaned towards the kid and lowered his voice. "Boys and girls can do their hair however they want. You can be anything you want to be."

"So I could be a boy?" May asked with widened eyes. Eliza smiled and laughed so Yuri figures she didn't mind.

"Of course! Like I said, you can be anything you want," Yuri grinned.

"Mommy I'm gonna be a mermaid with ice shoes!" May babbled on excitedly as the two walked away.

Most of the other people in line were teenaged girls who squealed upon meeting him and had him take a photo with them while wearing cat ears. He found that he couldn't even be upset about it, he had brought it upon himself and honestly he liked all the stuffed cats the fans gave him. He always kept one or two from every competition and as a result, he had a lot of them.

It was a predictable pattern with each fan, he'd sign whatever they had brought with them, take a picture, and talk for a minute or two. It was a bit repetitive but it was nice to see how many of his fans still cared about him.

By the time the line started dwindling down, his had hand was hurting from all the autographs he had signed. There was only a handful of fans left though so he knew he would be fine.

What appeared to be a brother and a sister stepped up next. The guy did not seem happy to be there. "Just get your picture with her already and lets go."

Yuri frowned, he had been doing really well at not yelling at anybody but he was getting tired and his patience was thin. He plastered on the best smile he could muster and turned to the girl. "Do you have anything for me to sign?"

She held out a poster of him from last year in his agape outfit. "My name is Claire," she supplied helpfully.

"A real pretty name," Yuri smiled. "Did you travel far?"

"I came from England," Claire seemed quite shy.

"Could you hurry up little lady?" The brother glowered at him making it very clear that the lady comment was in reference to him. To his horror Yuri felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes, he took a deep breath. He couldn't get angry, he wouldn't cry.

Before he could say anything Claire turned and glared at her brother. "Yuri is a boy Maxwell," she spat all signs of shyness gone.

"That doesn't look like a boy to me," Maxwell frowned. "Look at her, she's practically crying and her voice is almost as high as yours. There's no way she's a boy, I bet she's only wearing that jacket to hide her tits."

Yuri could see the hotel attendant off to the side asking him if he wanted the guy escorted off but he shook his head, he wasn't going to make a scene. He glanced around the room, there only seemed to be one fan left in line so he felt justified in taking more than his typical minute with these two. He wasn't really sure how he managed to keep himself from yelling, he was always quick to shout and scream when upset. "Do you have something for me to sign as well miss?" He turned towards the guy.

"What the fuck don't call me miss, lady," Maxwells response was exactly what he was hoping for. "You're a freak."

"Max!" Claire practically shouted. "He's a champion figure skater, you know dad won't be happy if I tell him you upset me."

"She's a freak Claire, your favorite skater is a freak," Maxwell sounded panicked about it as if it upset him for more than one reason.

"If you can't calm down miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Yuri said calmly, trying not to show how upset he was by those comments.

"Dad will be angry," Claire mumbled.

"Whatever dude just don't call me miss," Maxwell crossed his arms.

"Don't call me lady then," Yuri stated. "Question still stands, do you have something for me to sign?"

"No," Maxwell frowned.

"Yes you do," Claire reached into his bag and Yuri a framed photo. It was from back in his junior days and it appeared to be a picture of him and a younger Maxwell which just went to show that these two had followed his career for a while. "Maxy is just embarrassed."

"You don't have to sign it, I was rude," Maxwell looked ashamed and fearful. "I was disrespectful, fuck I'm an asshole," the last part was a mumble.

Yuri didn't know why he did it but he removed the picture from the frame a signed it with a short message:

Max,  
Be true to yourself  
-Yuri Plisetsky

He wrote it in English and the wrote his name again Cyrillic, following it with his standard cat doodle. He then put it back in the frame and pressed it into Maxwell's hands. "If you apologize I'll let you take a photo with me today."

"Sorry," Maxwell managed to look him in the eye. Yuri could tell that he was scared though he didn't know why.

After the apology Yuri took a selfie with both of them. First with Maxwell and then with Claire. "I'm sorry he said that," Claire whispered in his ear. "He can be an ass sometimes but he didn't mean it, he's just scared."

Yuri nodded and waved as the two of them left. That had been quite the encounter. He took a minute to himself before waving up the last fan. She looked vaguely familiar but so many of them did after all the meet and greets and social media accounts that he didn't know.

"You handled that well," she held her hand out in greeting. He thought it quite professional of her.

"I've been given some good advice on it," Yuri said. "You must be patient to have waited through that whole line."

"You're the one who was doing all the talking," she shrugged. She had the mannerism of somebody who had been around professional athletes a lot.

"Do you have anything for me to sign?" He asked with a smile.

She pulled out a poster of him from the last season, that one seemed to be the most popular. "My name is Daya," she smiled back.

He nodded and signed her poster. "Have you been to a competition like this before?"

"Yes a few times," she nodded. "My father does a lot with professional athletes and I'm interning with him so I travel to competitions frequently."

"Sounds like fun," he said. "Where are you from?"

"Illinois," she answered.

"Oh Chicago is there right?" He asked. "I had a competition there this season."

"Yeah I watched that with my family, we all crowded around the tv and I wouldn't let them change the channel," she laughed. "Your free skate was a masterpiece."

"Yeah I guess you could say that," Yuri puffed out his chest in pride. He loved compliments like that.

"My brother was right," Daya smiled. "You are a lot nicer than the media makes you out to be."

"Have I met your brother then?" He asked. That could explain why she had looked familiar it'd the siblings looked alike.

"Oh yeah once, poor kid is infatuated now," she laughed. "Wanted to come with me and my dad but couldn't miss finals week for this."

"Wish him luck for me then, finals all around," he laughed. "Would you like a picture before you go?"

"Please," she smiled and held out her phone.

After the photo was taken and the room was empty Yuri slumped down on his chair in exhaustion. He could feel the strain of practice getting to him now and he was more than glad that the meet and greet was over now. He stayed in that position for a few minutes before picking up the small pile of gifts he had been given and heading up to his room.

He sighed in relief as he took off his binder and flopped onto his bed, deciding to shower in the morning. Tomorrow was a day off before the competition began he was planning on using it to rest and catch up with friends since Otabek would be arriving in the morning and JJ had been texting him to do something. Having more than one friend was strange.

After the long day he had had, sleep came easily to him. He didn't recall dreaming when he woke up the next morning in a dried puddle of drool. Yuri wiped his face with the back of his hand and groggily made his way to the shower, half regretting his decision to go to bed without one.

Once he was all cleaned up and dressed he felt much better about the day ahead of him. He had agreed to meet up with Otabek in the morning and told JJ that he would do something with him later in the day, he just had to remember that.

He and Otabek had agreed to meet in the hotel lobby around ten and he had gotten there a little bit early so he paced around until he caught sight of his friend. "Beka!" He shouted excitedly and ran at him once he saw him come around the corner, Otabek looked up just in time to see Yuri slam into his chest and wrap his arms around him. "I'm so glad you came."

"Calm down soldier boy," Otabek laughed but returned the hug. "You're gonna ruin your tough guy facade hugging someone in public all willingly."

"I missed my friend, shut up," Yuri released him with a playful punch to the shoulder. "My idiotic ankle injuring asshole of a friend. I told you you had to qualify for this and what did you do? You didn't qualify."

"Well this way I can cheer you on better you little brat," Otabek teased.

"That's a mean thing to say," Yuri pouted.

"You're a mean kid, it's fair," Otabek shrugged. "Let's go exploring."

"Neither of us speak French," Yuri pointed out. "What if we get lost."

"Neither of us speak Catalan either and we did just fine in Spain," Otabek reasoned. "And I understand enough to be fine. Worse come worst we can always contact JJ."

"Why would you talk to him?" Yuri wrinkled his nose despite his plans to hang out with said person in a few hours.

"Because I happen to be on friendly terms with him," Otabek shrugged.

"What?!" Yuri had not known about this.

"Last I checked you befriended the guy so I don't see what you're on about," Otabek laughed. "I skated at the same rink as him when I was based in Canada, I thought you knew that."

"That's so fucking weird," Yuri muttered. "How dare you betray my trust? You met me first."

"Okay, one you didn't know me until last year, and two he's your friend too," Otabek lightly cuffed his shoulder. "You have no argument."

"Let's just go look at old buildings already," Yuri changed the topic, tugging at the sleeve of Otabek's jacket.

"If you'd rather we go shopping we can do that," Otabek offered. "I'm sure there's a leopard print monstrosity just waiting for you to purchase it."

"Shut up, my style is wonderful," Yuri defended. "Just pick something and lets go."

They ended up going to sort some port of sorts and just exploring the more historical parts of the city in general. It turned out that Otabek was quite good at reading street signs so they didn't have much problem getting around. All in all it was just nice to get to spend some time with his best friends.

After trekking about for a few hours Yuri got bored and then grabbed sandwiches from a little cafe before heading to a park and sitting down. "You're okay with not qualifying, right?" Yuri asked. He had teased him about it a lot and wanted to make sure that wasn't upsetting.

"A bit disappointed," Otabek shrugged. "But it happens."

"I'm glad you're not seriously injured," Yuri said. "I really do want to skate against you again." He withheld from adding one of his usual snarky remarks about winning.

"I'm glad too," Otabek smiled. "It's how this doing goes though. You dedicate your soul, mind, and body to the ice and you don't always get to leave without losing something to it. It's give and take, we're all just caught in an intricate dance until the fates bottom us out one way or another."

"When did you go all serious on me?" Yuri teased. He had gotten used to Otabek's propensity for the occasional dramatic monologue though, they gave a good look into the head of his friend.

"Think about it Yuri," Otabek clearly wasn't done. "Here we are, the pinnacle of humanity, literally trying to carve a place for ourselves in history. We have to fight the fundamentals of the universe to do what we do, work against gravity itself all while having a timer above our heads. Who knows when it will expire and the ice will take it all away. We fight everything to be able to do this: the laws of physics, the passing of time, even our own bodies. That's what makes you a soldier, we all fight this fight but you're out there with a makeshift helmet and a sharpened stick while the rest of us have full armor and swords. And who is it that we see winning the battle time and time again, you."

"Did you really drag me out here to give a dramatic monologue on how impressive I am," Yuri flushed at the barrage of compliments. "You're such a dork," he buried his face in his hands.

"You can't say I'm wrong, soldier boy," Otabek's lighthearted smile returned. Yuri always found himself surprised by the sudden transition from serious to playful.

"Ugh," Yuri groaned, he couldn't really. "You should just ho into philosophy or something, figure skating might not cut it for you."

"I thought you wanted to skate against me again?" Otabek teased. "Can't do that if I quit."

"After I kick your ass of course," Yuri amended. "Here's your agenda: suffer an epic humiliating defeat to one Yuri Plisetsky and then go become a kickass philosopher."

"I think I'd prefer to forge my own path," Otabek laughed, leaning back against the bench. "Though I won't deny that philosophy sounds interesting."

"You could combine it with music," Yuri said. "You love both so that would work."

"Hmm," Otabek hummed. "That could be interesting. Speaking of music, I have another playlist for you, want to give it a listen."

Otabek made him a playlist about once every month or two and Yuri appreciated them. His friend just had really good musical taste and seemed to be able to pull good songs from every genre possible. "Of course," Yuri nodded. "What's this one called?"

"On top of the world," Otabek pulled out his iPod and headphones. That was something Yuri always teased him about, he had to be the only person left who still carried both an iPod and a cell phone. But he supposed it made sense for someone as serious about music as Otabek was. "Happy music, its supposed to make you feel like you're unstoppable."

"Let me guess, this is what I'll be listening to after the final win or lose?" Yuri said. Otabek nodded and plugged in a splitter as well as two sets of headphones. He always carried those on him though the headphones were of lower quality than the ones he used normally.

Each playlist was usually about an hours worth of music, all of it good. Yuri's favorite playlist Otabek had made was the one he worked out to, it was really good at taking his focus away from his burning muscles. From the sound of the first song, Yuri guessed that this would become a favorite too.

They sat side by side and listened all the way through and Yuri had to admit, it really did make him feel like he was on top of the world. "That was great Beks," he grinned. "One of your best yet."

"I'm glad you liked you, hopefully you can use it to cheer up when you need to," Otabek said. "Happiness suits you."

Yuri's phone pinged and he remembered he was supposed to be meeting up with JJ soon. "I told JJ I'd catch up with today," he shifted awkwardly. "That obnoxious idiot doesn't listen to the word no way."

"That's two words," Otabek pointed out to which Yuri stuck out his tongue. "Would he mind if I tag along? I'd like to do some catching up as well."

"Oh? Okay then," Yuri unlocked his phone. "I'll text him."

 **Yuri** : hey asshole  
**Yuri** : we still meeting up?  
**Yuri** : Otabek Altin came to watch the final, he wants to coke woth to hang out  
**Yuri** : that okay?  
**JJ** : sounds great! Meet at the hotel in 30?  
**Yuri** : alright

"He says it's fine if you come," Yuri told Otabek, returning his phone to his pocket.

"Of course he does," Otabek was practically smirking much to Yuri's confusion.

"Well were supposed to meet him back at the hotel in half an hour," Yuri stood up. "So lead the way."

The walk wasn't too far and the movement kept Yuri warm though it looked like the clouds gathering would lead to rain later on, perhaps even snow if it got cold enough. Yuri didn't know, he gauged temperature by how cold it was compared to an ice rink and that wasn't necessarily the most reliable system.

JJ was waiting for them when they arrived and he was just as irritatingly friendly as ever. "Chaton, nounours! It's good to see you both," he pulled Yuri into a half hugband then did the same to Otabek.

"Nice to see you too Jean," Otabek pronounced it like 'gene' and it seemed to be a joke between the two of them.

"How come neither of you told me you were friends?" Yuri demanded.

"You never asked," JJ said.

"I never asked you about a lot of things but you still update me on every aspect of your boring life," Yuri rolled his eyes. "Especially that Devin guy."

"Your newest fancy?" Otabek asked. "And what's this ones excuse going to be? Not another 'I spilled the escargot' I hope."

"He's chill," JJ grinned. "There might not be an excuse this time."

Yuri was struck with the feeling that he was missing something here. Majorly so. "Hey, this is my friendship time you two," he whined. "You're supposed to be my friends."

"Of course chaton," JJ ruffled his hair. "All the friendship in the world here."

"The friendship smothering shall commence," Otabek smiled, exchanging a look with JJ.

Yuri really didn't like not knowing what was happening before his eyes. "What is up with you two?" He eyed them suspiciously. "You're acting weird."

"Ah, what makes you think nounours and I are acting strange?" JJ still had an arm slung around Otabek's shoulders as they walked. Yuri hadn't bothered asking where they were going.

"What does 'no news' even mean?" Yuri asked. "Stop being so weird. It's weird."

"Very eloquent there Yuri," Otabek laughed. "We're not being weird."

"And by the way it's nounours not no news," JJ corrected. "It roughly translates to teddy bear."

"And why in the hell would you call him that?" Yuri frowned, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"You wanna tell him?" JJ asked Otabek. "He might kill me."

"He'll figure it out," Otabek smirked. "Won't you soldier boy?"

"Ugh, why did I ever agree to be friends with either of you?" Yuri huffed. "Let's just go do some stupid touristy thing, nothing that get me or the idiot injured. And you aren't allowed to trip over stairs."

"I think there's a museum of sorts nearby," JJ said. "Sounds nice and safe for all three of us, there will be no injuries tonight."

"Alright, good," Yuri walked up behind the other two and pushed them apart so he could stand in the middle. "Museum it is then."

There was a bit of a line to get in but they managed to bypass it, JJ may have name dropped a little bit to do so but Yuri didn't speak French so he couldn't be sure. Yuri was able to find a map in English but all the exhibit signs were in French and he was thoroughly confused. "Stupid French," he muttered under his breath, glaring at all the words he couldn't understand.

"Don't insult the language Yuri, they don't like that," JJ said. "I told you I could translate for you."

"I don't need your help," Yuri said. He was perfectly capable of enjoying museum without anyone's help.

"Sure chaton," JJ rolled his eyes. "You take the lead then. Nounours and I will just follow behind you."

Yuri took that upon himself as a challenge, he wasn't going to back down from that. He'd show them. He glanced around the exhibit they were currently in and pinpointed it on his map, he would just use that to get around. It would be fine.

It was not fine. He managed to walk them in a circle three times and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get them to the exhibit he was going for. He finally gave up after passing the same painting for what had to be the hundredth time, he was starting to hate that picture. "Okay fine," he sighed. "Maybe I do need somebody to translate."

"I don't think he heard you," Otabek said. "You should repeat that."

Yuri glared at both of them. He didn't know how much the two of them were going to team up on him, if he had he probably wouldn't have agreed to hang out with both of them at once. Or he might have anyway, they were somewhat interesting together. "Fuck off Altin," he stuck his tongue out.

"Chaton, you just make the kindest friend don't you?" JJ teased. "We can head outside now if you'd like, I know you like walking around in the cold."

"As long as there's no French I'm down for anything," Yuri said. "For a supposedly pretty language it sure gets on my nerves."

"I think it's a lovely language," Otabek said. "You're just frustrated because you can't speak it."

"Everybody knows you like in nounours," JJ laughed. "And everybody knows that he hates it."

"Let's just go," Yuri tugged the two of them towards the exit. "JJ owes me the story of what's been going on with that guy he's crushing on."

"Oh look, he does care about me. Asking about my love life and everything," JJ said. "You only get the story if you promise one in return."

"Still don't like anybody," Yuri said. "Online school and figure skating practice. I don't interact with people my age often."

The three of them joked around about who would have to tell who what when it came to their personal lives. Not that he would admit it, but Yuri actually enjoyed hanging out with both of them. He had gotten more comfortable with talking to JJ since the competition in Paris since the Canadian took to texting him quite frequently. And of course Otabek was his best friend. Having friends was the strangest thing though.

After roaming about for a while they found a little bakery tucked away in some hidden corner and stopped there. JJ and Yuri both got a small pastry and a water, Otabek got a sugary drink and a slightly larger pastry. Yuri assumed he only got that to rub it in that he could eat something super sugary since he wasn't competing the next day.

"After the competition we should go out for crepes," JJ said. "Loser pays."

"How about Beka pays," Yuri suggested. "He's the one who didn't qualify."

"Scared you'll lose to the king, little prince?" JJ raised an eyebrow.

"In your dreams Leroy, just you wait," Yuri said. He was secretly pleased at the masculine terminology used.

"I can pay just fine," Otabek said. "Yuri has a point there, it'd be my treat. I have no problem treating my best friend and my...him," he pointed at JJ, "to dinner."

"Your me?" JJ set a hand over his heart. "That's so sweet nounours."

"You have absolutely no reason to sound sappy about each other so stop that," Yuri grimaced. "How about you just tell me about the one you are sappy about."

JJ flicked his gaze over to Otabek for a second with a strange look in his eyes before turning back to Yuri and grinning. "Right, Devin. He's lovely of course. I've been teaching him how to skate and he can actually go a lap without crashing now. He's gets the cutest expression when he's concentrating on something."

"I'm surrounded by saps," Yuri heaved a dramatic sigh. "Otabek you'd better not be hiding some secret sappiness."

Otabek looked guilty at that statement but before he could say anything JJ continued. "He's in my psychology class and we work on homework together now, he's so sweet about it too when I have trouble paying attention and he takes notes for me when I miss for competition. And I've talked to him about Isabella and the others and he's not weird about it at all, he's perfect."

"You're pining," Yuri said. "Just ask him out already so I can stop hearing all this piney crap."

"You should have seen him when he first became smitten with Isabella if you think this is bad," Otabek laughed. "He's mellowed out a bit since then."

"We both know it wasn't just because of Isabella," JJ pouted. "And it's not my fault that people are so cute and wonderful and lovely. Isabella and Devin and the others."

"Oh god you're as bad as Georgi," Yuri realized out loud. "Why do I always seem to get stuck around the hopeless romantics?" Georgi and Victor and Yuuri and JJ, half the people he was around all the time. "Otabek you're the only one left, don't you dare jump on the romantic sappy boat train."

"It might just be a tad too late for that soldier boy," Otabek said, his expression remains unchanged. "But wow it is getting late you two need to sleep."

It wasn't until they had started walking again that Yuri realized what Otabek had said. "What do you mean it's too late?!" He half shouted. "Don't tell me you're pining after somebody too. This is terrible I have to deal with Victor and Yuuri and JJ and Georgi prattling off about this lovey-dovey shit. Not you too. Who?!"

"Think he'll get it?" JJ asked, both him and Otabek laughing. It was that comment that made Yuri's eyes widen as the pieces fell into place.

The sappy nickname, the comfortableness of the two, the glanced they had shared. "You said Isabella and others. Others or just other," Yuri narrowed his eyes and looked back and forth between the two of them which wasn't hard with how close they were standing. JJ had his arm around Otabek's shoulders again and Otabek had reached his hand up and was loosely holding onto JJ's. "What the hell the fuck?!" Yuri did shout this time. This was unacceptable. "I thought you had standards Beka!"

Both JJ and Otabek burst into fits of laughter, an identical flush gracing their cheeks. "You were right," JJ gasped for breath. "His reaction is priceless."

"This is betrayal," Yuri crossed his arms. "You're dating?! Are you dating? When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me, do best friend privileges mean nothing to you."

"It never really came up," Otabek shrugged. "You never asked me if I was in a relationship."

"Because that's something you tell your best friend," Yuri was kind of hurt that he hadn't known about this.

"It's common knowledge chaton," JJ told him. "We've never hidden it. Why do you think I asked him to dinner with me and Isabella at the final last year. It was supposed to be a date but he decided to explore the city instead and then you two became friends."

"You could have told me in Paris when you were talking about your relationships," Yuri pouted. "You're both assholes for not telling me. Friends are supposed to tell each other this stuff," he didn't know why it upset him so much but it did.

"We thought it would be funny to see how you reacted if you figured it out yourself," JJ said.

"And we don't ever talk about this stuff Yuri, you complain about Victor and Yuuri so much, why give you more 'sappy bullshit' to know about," Otabek shrugged. "But you're right, we should have told you. It's not nice to keep stuff from friends. Can I make it up to you?"

"No," Yuri mumbled. "You betrayed me, this is terrible. You're both the worst ever."

"I guess he doesn't want to stop by that store near the hotel he was eying earlier," JJ said. "The one with all the cat print. I thought I saw a jacket he would love."

Yuri perked up a little bit at that. He wouldn't exactly object to them buying him a cool jacket. "Okay fine," he said. "But you have to tell me about how this all started. I think I'm owed that much."

"Deal!" JJ sounded excited about that. Of course he was he loved talking about his love live. "When he was training with me we struck up a friendly rivalry of sorts, a good way to push each other to do our best. Full out competition no stops barred."

"It was very motivational actually," Otabek removed JJ's arm from around his shoulders and laced their hands together. "There's nothing like full on competition to get you doing better every day."

"After a rather long practice session we were the only two left and we just started yelling at each other," JJ continued. "Honestly just tearing each other to shreds. On and on about how this jump was awful that spin was terrible, your interpretation is lackluster. I think at one point he slammed me against a wall."

"I did," Otabek nodded. "We were both frustrated and riling each other up, so I slammed him against the wall and held him there which honestly wasn't the easiest thing. He's tall. He told me I wasn't feeling anything so I said I certainly was."

"He kissed me," JJ grinned. "It got a little adult from there."

"I don't wanna hear never mind," Yuri slammed his hands over his ears. "I am a child don't corrupt me."

"We won't," Otabek laughed. "We ignored each other for a week and then when we acknowledged what had happened we decided to get to know each other better and it progressed into this."

"I should never have asked," Yuri made a disgusted face. "That's terrible. You should stop immediately."

"Stop what?" JJ asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He cupped Otabek's cheek in one hand and the two of them shared a short kiss.

"That's it!" Yuri smacked them with the rolled up map he still had from the museum. "You owe me two jackets now you assholes," he pulled them away from each other. "No more sappy shit. Otabek you're hereby relegated to not cool friend, JJ you'd better be careful."

"Fine, well both but you a jacket," Otabek smiled. "Go pick out what you want, we're here."

Yuri glared at both of them before looking through the jackets that caught his eye. He chose one that was solid grey in color and lined with a really soft material. The other one he picked was similar to one he already owned but it was in jaguar print. He shoved that one at Otabek. "Like you said earlier, I found it and it's wonderful."

The store was having a sale so he didn't feel bad for having them pay especially since they had been hiding this from him for a year. After paying they headed back to the hotel and JJ split from the group.

"Yuri I really am sorry for not telling you," Otabek said. "And sorry for tagging along, you were supposed to have the chance to catch up with a friend not get stuck in the middle of that."

"I can't believe you're one of the saps now Beks," Yuri shook his head. "But I will skate over him if he hurts you. You were my friend first."

"Very threatening soldier boy," Otabek laughed. "I'm sure he's trembling in his skates. Now you'd best be going to bed you little brat. You have a competition to win. I'm cheering for you."

Yuri took that as a goodby and walked off to his room yawning all the way. It been an eventful day to say the least, in a way he hadn't been expecting. But he wasn't going to take away from his friends' happiness. He would certainly tease them relentlessly about it though.

He thought about going to Victor and Yuuri's room to talk with them before heading off to bed but decided against it and chose to sleep early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The JJ and Otabek thing was not what I had planned I was just writing and it fit so like yeah. I hope it's okay. You can always come yell at me on tumblr if you don't like. But anyway I hope this was okay. The next chapter will be the short program, I think it'll get its own chapter but it may get combined with the free as well. It depends. 
> 
> Feedback is always wanted. Did you like it? Was it a bad idea? You know the usual. Has anybody caught onto some of the stuff that's going to happen?


	18. Of Tsars and Interviews

Heading into the arena felt like he was going to war. He only had one goal in mind, and that was winning. Nothing could distract him. Not the roars of the audience nor the flashes of cameras. The whole world had come down to just him and the ice he would be flying across later that day.

If he had to fight an epic battle to win that's what he would do. He would carve his soul out there on the ice. There was no turning back, this wasn't the biggest stage in the world but by all means he would treat as such.

The ice shimmered harshly under the stadium lights, a cold reminder of what awaited him in the quickly approaching hour. This was the culmination of everything he had worked towards so far this season, this was where he would prove himself. First on this stage here, and then in front of all of Europe, and then the world. He could and he would prove himself yet again to be the best of the best.

The air was thick with passion and anticipation . A sense of unmuted excitement wove it's way throughout the entire building. This was where one journey would end and another would start. Here under the watchful eyes of the thousands in the audience and the beady states of cameras projecting this to millions more, here he would show who he was.

Yuri was pulled from his thoughts by Yakov who had come up behind him while he was busy staring out at the rink. "Victor and Yuuri are already in the changing room," Yakov said. "You should join them soon, it's time to get ready."

"I am ready," Yuri's tone was serious. "That medal is as good as mine, I can feel it."

"You'll do me proud boy," Yakov gave a rare smile. "Now go get dressed."

Yuri went straight to the dressing room at that. Victor and Yuuri were already in costume and were working on hair and makeup. They waved and he nodded back in acknowledgement. Today they were competition first and anything else second. He wouldn't reject their encouragement and comfort but he couldn't forget that they were two of the obstacles he was to overcome later on.

He could feel an instant change as soon as his costume was on, it even more so solidified the fact of the competition to come. He felt like a warrior who had just pulled on their armor. His face was set with determination.

"Do you need help with your hair?" Yuuri asked him, waving him over to the mirrors he and Victor were in front of.

Yuri said nothing but joined them nonetheless, he didn't have to speak for them to understand what he needed from them right now. Since Victor was the only one who didn't have to do much with his hair he was relegated to the role of helping both of them out.

Yuuri styled Yuri's hair for him as usual, smiling the whole while. "I can't wait to watch you perform. You practiced beautifully the past few days."

"We're both cheering for you," Victor said, looking up from the braid he was putting in Yuuri's hair. "Imagine how pleased Yakov will be if we sweep the podium. I bet he'll let us have that dance party on the rink we've been asking for, especially if Mila medals too, I can't imagine her not."

"Don't forget your promise Victor," Yuuri smiled. "You're on bathroom duty for a month if I beat you."

"Well they say the say the student can never exceed the teacher," Victor smiled back. "So I think it'll be you doing that."

"I do it anyway Vitya," Yuuri rolled his eyes. "We all know you shirk your responsibilities, don't we Yuri?"

Yuri shot them a look that read _don't get me into this_.They were about to skate one of the most important competitions of the season and these two were bickering about household chores, typical.

"Well obviously I'm going to take gold," now Victor was just being dramatic. "And another bronze for you Yurio, you'll have quite a few of those this season."

"No," Yuri shook his head, speaking for the first time that day. "Gold to match last year. It's as good as mine," his tone was as serious as Victor's had been playful.

"Typical Yura," Yuuri said, he seemed slightly less anxious than usual, probably because of his placement, he like performing in the middle. Less pressure that way.

They joined Yakov at the side of the rink after that. Yuri stood back near Lilia and Victor and Yuuri stood Victor stood off from the group engaged in their own personal world. It was when they were like that that the lines between coach, student, competitor, and fiancé became a blur.

Yuri wasn't sure he'd be able to get their attention even if he wanted to. There was a familiarity between the two as if they knew each other's souls and carried a piece with them. He wrinkled his nose at that thought, it sounded like some of the crap those two spouted about each other all the time. It was kind of ridiculous how they acted, but nobody could deny they were good for each other.

He was ready for the competition to start just so those two would stop acting the way they were. It would be interesting to see how it all worked out with him going second, Yuuri going fourth, and Victor going sixth. Victor would be certainly crunched for time if he went to the kiss and cry with Yuuri, but as his coach it was expected. Though Yuri would prefer if the two of them just stayed far away from each other, there were only so many times it was necessary to kiss on live international television—zero times.

He could tell the competition getting closer and closer to start by the way the air thickened even more so. He was certain there was enough tension he could skate on it. Time passed in the strangest way during competition. He knew that very well, it was its own little reality that everyone in the arena was privy to.

Even though he had been skating on the same rink as them at the public practice sessions, it felt completely different to skate the warmup. This was the line up of the best male figure skaters this season had to offer, a lineup that gave him a place just as earned as everyone else's. All six of them upon the same field, each there to carve their own story into the ice beneath their feet.

He could fell the muscles in his legs begin to warm as he skated a lap, Yuuri not too far to his side, finally separated from Victor. It was out here that they all became competitors. Those five minutes seemed to stretch on and on, but it still came as a surprise when the buzzer sounded, informing them it was time to get off the ice.

Yuri knew he would be stepping back out onto that surface in less than ten minutes. He stood between Yakov and Lilia both of whom set a hand on his shoulders. They were there to support him as much as possible before it was his turn.

Out on the ice, Phichit Chulanont started his routine. Yuri had seen it before on tv, but he had never paid much attention to the routine itself, caring more about the score than anything. It seemed as if Phichit was recreating Thai folklore out on the ice from the costume he was wearing and the song that was playing. It made sense, Yuri could remember him saying in an interview that he wanted people in his country to love skating as much as he did, and what better way to achieve that than to skate the stories of the country.

The sheer vibrance of the costume paired with the music pulled the audience in and most of them were on their feet clapping and cheering. The arena was filled with the Thai flag. This was clearly a fan favorite this season. It was a good performance, Yuri couldn't deny that. But he was going to do better.

When Phichit finished and took his final position a rain of flowers fell onto the ice, as well as the stuffed animals that the audience was so keen on giving. Yuri couldn't tell what they were but most of them seemed to be some type of rodent, guinea pigs maybe.

Phichit skating to the edge of the rink was his signal to get on the ice. Yuri slipped off his skate guards and handed them to Yakov, keeping one hand on the wall of the rink. He still had a few minutes before he was to perform.

"You put a lot of work into this Yuri," Yakov said, the barest hint of a smile visible on his face. "Do your best out there."

"You don't have to break your record to be beautiful today," Lilia added. "You don't ever have to do that. Do your bet and tell your story, let the world see your beauty."

Yuri smiled at them. He didn't need a pep talk today but he was grateful for the encouragement nonetheless. "I will," he nodded.

Everything about the moment was perfect. From the way the baggy sleeves of his costume pooled around his wrists to the way his braid rested at the base of his neck. The cold air felt like fire in his lungs ready to be released. He could hear shouts of luck from Victor and Yuuri, if he strained his ears he make out a shout from Otabek as well. There were others as well but between the size of the arena and the cheering audience, those were drowned out.

And then it was time, he relished the feeling of the almost pristine ice underneath his feet as he made his way to the center. The surface shone brightly looking to him like the glimmer of a promise. The ice was to be his friend today, none of that cold harshness would come upon him. It was merely to be a reunion of old friends.

He took one more deep breath in and out, feeling the way his lungs expanded and then contracted.

He assumed his starting position, hands placed in his hips head tipped up to give the impression of somebody who thought—no, knew—they were better than everybody. In that moment he allowed himself to feel the arrogance, to feel what he would need for this program.

The music started, aggressive and harsh as always. He was the son of a tsar, heir apparent to the throne. The world was his to claim as he liked.

His first jump, a quad salchow. A show that he was the best even from the start, he landed without even a wobble. There was nobody who could top him. He was the unbeatable son of a tsar and that made him angry.

The music began to calm, his step sequence—the one he had been struggling with the most—went smoothly. He was the son of the tsar, he was...he was an outcast. He had brought shame upon his country and was not welcome back until he could rectify that. He was all anger now.

A triple axel.

A camel spin.

Another step sequence.

Anger wasn't the solution. He would never regain his position through anger. It would take bravery, courage beyond what he possessed to do what was necessary. It would require him to have pride in himself, not for what he could do but for who he was. A feat beyond anything else he had done before.

Biellman spin.

He had been the son of the tsar, he was an outcast, he would be...something. He had every right in the world to be furious, but the answer to his problem wasn't anger this time. It was love. A kind of love he had rarely felt, love for himself. He couldn't redeem himself if he found himself to be unredeemable.

Triple toe loop-triple salchow combination.

For so long he had put himself far above everyone else because nobody could perform the way he did. He had loved himself for that and that only. But it wasn't who he was? It wasn't what made him human.

Step sequence.

The program was almost over, only one more jump left. It was time to let go of the anger, he didn't need it. It was time to allow himself the privilege of loving himself. Only then would he be able to regain his rightful position. He had to have pride in himself for who he was rather then what he could do. He had the right to be angry at the world, at himself. But he chose to let go, to choose kindness, to choose happiness.

Perhaps it would be the hardest thing he had ever done, but he would do whatever it took. He would fight every fight on his own if he had to, but he wasn't something unredeemable. He was worthy of the happiness and love merited to others. And he would start by loving himself.

A quad toe loop—his last jump, changed from a salchow in practice after Paris. He almost underotated but he caught himself with one hand. His worst jump placed last in his program, a sign to say he had fought long and hard and wasn't about to give up.

Another step sequence then a flying sit spin and then finally finally it was over.

He sunk to his knees and held himself as if asking for forgiveness, asking for the redemption he so desperately sought. The program was over, his chest was heaving. He was shaking from the exertion he just put on himself.

It took a good minute before he had it in him to climb to his feet, he blinked back tears. He was not going to cry no matter how good that had felt. A few slipped down his cheeks regardless.

The crowd was cheering—practically screaming really. It was like last year all over again, a familiar sense of euphoria broke over him as he skated off the rink. He was pretty sure he was smiling.

Yakov and Lilia met him with proud smiles and he received a thump on the back after passing Victor and Yuuri on the way to the kiss and cry. It was then that it sunk in just how many people were rooting for him.

Yuri couldn't help but smile as he took a seat in the kiss and cry, he felt as if he were soaring something he rarely felt off the ice. The moment was perfect, he wished he had a way to bottle it up so he could keep it forever. People were chanting his name, everybody in the stadium was exhilarated because of him. It was a feeling he didn't normally take note of but it was different this time.

The cheers grew louder, a number flashed up on the screen. Yakov and Lilia were hugging him and laughing. It was no world record, but that 118 of his from last season was an almost inhuman accomplishment. It was still a high score, his highest yet from this program. Over 100 was a good enough accomplishment for now, once the others had gone he would know what he'd need to do the next day. Yuri was in first and that was all that mattered.

In his sheer joy, Yuri missed most of Christophe's program. What he didn't up seeing didn't make much of an impression, he was still too drunk on endorphins to really put much into analyzing anything at the moment. Christophe's score was announced. Yuri was in first.

"Davai!" Yuri shouted as Yuuri took to the ice, would he deny it later, probably. But for now he was excited to see him do well.

Yuuri's skating always managed to pull him in entirely. Out of all the skaters competing Yuuri was by far the hardest to look away from. After his stunning performance the year before and his win at worlds Yuuri had become quite the fan favorite. That was clear from the sheer volume of the audience, Yuri wasn't sure how they would manage to get louder but he knew it would happen with both JJ and Victor yet to perform.

Lilia always commented on Yuri's performance being beautiful, what Yuuri did out on the ice went beyond that. The costume was deliberately designed to point out the more feminine aspects of his body and Yuuri had his styled in a way often seen on little girls. It was easy to see how this was indicative of the Japanese man's childhood.

Yuri was still surprised that Yuuri had been brave enough to skate to this theme, for somebody who made claim after claim about his lack of confidence this sure was something. Even though he saw it every day in practice, it was an entirely different thing in competition. The atmosphere itself was enough to change everything.

The only thing in the arena that came close to rivaling the emotion given off by Yuuri's skating was the expression on Victor's face. It was a mixture of pride and love that would look ridiculous on anyone else, it looked ridiculous on him. Yuri could clearly see Victor the coach, Victor the fiancé, and Victor the competitor all at once. He elbowed him slightly and rolled his eyes, he received no response.

"Don't you dare fucking kiss him," Yuri grabbed Victor's sleeve once the program had ended. "That's unnecessary." If he had to watch the two of them kiss in the middle of competition in front of all the cameras in person he would very displeased. Watching it on screen the year prior had been bad enough.

"Yuuri!" Victor pulled away from him and thankfully only hugged Yuuri who had just gotten off the ice. "That flip was terrible and your form was off most of the first half, you were supposed to work on that."

"Lecture him later Vitya," Yakov said. "You have yourself to worry about right now."

Yuuri nodded in agreement and pulled Victor into a tight hug whispering something Japanese that had Victor's expression quickly melting into a blissful one. "Do your best for me," Yuuri said upon pulling away. Victor nodded and immediately switched into a more serious demeanor, was clear that he was ready to compete now.

Since Yuuri and Victor had performances so close together it had been decided that Lilia would be the one to accompany Yuuri to the kiss and cry and Yuri decided to tag along as well. He didn't comment on the tears that were drying on Yuuri's cheeks.

"You were pretty great out there," Yuri muttered the compliment, he didn't want to seem too friendly about it. "I'll still kick your ass though."

"Thanks Yura," Yuuri smiled warmly, his bouncing legs the only thing keying in to his anxiety. "You did amazing."

"Of course I did," Yuri puffed out his chest a little bit, he was very proud of his performance. "That gold is gonna be mine, have fun with your bronze."

"You have no faith in me beating Victor do you," Yuuri said, his tone was part teasing so Yuri knew he wasn't upset about that.

"I'd say his motivation to win is a bit stronger," Yuri snorted. "His perfect Yuuri is worth all the golds in the world," he pitched his voice down to imitate Victor.

Yuuri flushed but laughed, Yuri was glad he had been able to distract him from thinking about his score. "Good job,"Lilia alerted both of them to the score that was now displayed in front of them. Yuuri had also scored over one hundred.

Yuri was still in first. With only two skaters left he was beginning to feel even more proud of himself. He caught the second half of JJ's routine, making sure to yell out a statement of luck. He had promised to do so after all.

He still couldn't remember what JJ's theme was, but it was a good routine and it suggested strength and confidence in an entirely different way than the programs from last season had. It was good but it seemed to lack some of the typical flare he had come to expect of JJ. Surprisingly, JJ fell during a quad lutz something that didn't happen very often. JJ was pretty good about staying on his feet. The fall was unexpected but it didn't take away from the program.

Yuri clapped for his friend when it ended and he thought he could hear Otabek cheering from the audience. Though as best friend, Yuri had claimed exclusive rights to Otabek's well wishes. Having him wish him luck and be his friend the year prior had been a help so it was a requirement that he cheer him on again. That what best friends were for.

He listened for JJ's score to be announced and grinned when it was. Yuri was in first.

And then it was Victor's turn. Victor who became an entirely different person once on the ice. Though Yuri didn't use the term much himself, nobody could deny that Victor was a genius when it came to this. Of course skating with him every day took away some of the appeal. Kinda hard to be in awe of someone he had seen crash and burn multiple times. Or someone who had skated to the most ridiculous songs in front of him. Nevertheless, Victor was still Victor Nikiforov.

Yuri stood next to Yuuri during the performance and he could honestly say that Yuuri's expressions were just as bad as Victor's had been earlier. They weren't quite as noticeable because Yuuri usually kept more to himself when cameras were on him, but Yuri knew him well enough to know what he thought of Victor's performance. Honestly those two were worse than Georgi when it came to romance.

He had been skating with Victor for years now and he could tell that this program was different. It wasn't his usual performance, of course it was just as good but there was something refreshing about it. Each step sequence and spin was modeled after Yuuri's but the jumps were still all Victor. It was the perfect weaving together of two people on ice even though only one person was skating. Yuri really needed to make fun of Victor again for it.

He pretended not to notice the way Yuuri's eyes shone and his face lit up while watching. Yuuri was the more tolerable of the two when it came to the sappiness, at least on public he was because unlike somebody else he had a sense of decency (while sober).

The programs went by much much faster when he wasn't the one skating. Cheering that was most decibels the loudest yet filled the room when Victor finished and struck his final pose, his face turned towards Yuuri and Yuuri only.

Yuri saw what was going to happen before it did and he reached out to stop Yuuri from heading towards to where Victor would get off the ice but it was too late, Yuuri was already gone and Victor was already skating directly towards him. And they were kissing, on live international television, again. He groaned and buried his face in his hands, he dealt with this shit enough at home. Those two were the most ridiculous of all couples. At least they weren't lying on the ice this time.

"Was that really necessary?" Yuri seethed when they had finally broken apart to head over to the kiss and cry. "Could you not at least do it away from the hundreds of cameras. You two are killing me."

"You hurt me son," a goofy grin adorned Victor's face. "Allow me to love my husband in peace."

"I am not your son," Yuri stated. "And you two aren't married yet so you should get over yourself."

"Vitya he has a point," Yakov stepped in. "And what were you thinking changing yo your jump composition like that you idiot boy. You never listen."

Victor just smiled wider. He, Yakov, and Yuuri sat in the kiss and cry while Lilia and Yuri stood just outside. He wasn't surprised to see a three digit number displayed on screen, he was fairly certain Victor hadn't scored below such in years. He glanced back and forth between the score and the rankings.

Yuri blinked. He glanced again and rubbed his eyes. Right in front of his face though it was only by 0.61 points. Yuri was in first. He was in first. Yuri. Was. In. First. He couldn't believe it, he had done better than Victor. He was smiling, this was the best of news. He was in first.

Victor was in second followed by Yuuri, JJ, Phichit, and Christophe. Yuri would have the advantage of skating last again which would allow him to gauge just how well he would have to perform his free skate.

He was still dazed by how well he had done but he projected an image of pride rather than let that show. Of course he was in first, he was the best. He had done it all over again and proven that he did belong right where he was.

The three of them securing the top spots going into the free skate was apparently big news because immediately they were surrounded by reporters and an unofficial interview had to be arranged quickly, much to Yuri's displeasure. He was almost too tired to play nice with the press but he had to keep good face because he wouldn't attract sponsors if he didn't.

"It's just one little interview," Victor said as they headed to where it was to be held after changing back into regular shoes and putting on their warmup jackets. "Right now we have the best shot at the podium, this is the kind of stuff they eat up."

Yuri knew that but he still didn't want to do it. "One question about my gender and I won't hesitate to kill them."

"I'll handle that instead I think," Yuuri said. "We won't let them hound you about it, this should be about skating for the most part."

Yuri huffed and grumbled the whole way there but as soon as they entered the area with the reporters he stood up straight and grinned. He had an image to portray after all. Thankfully there was actually a place for them to sit during the interview which was highly appreciated because they were all tired. He had also been provided a water bottle which was a nice touch.

"This is the first time you've competed against each other as fiancés, how do you think that affected your performances?" The first question was aimed at Victor and Yuuri.

"We certainly don't have a typical dynamic," Victor pulled out his trademark smile early. "As coach and student as well as fiancé and competitor we have quite a few roles going into our skating."

"Victor has always been an inspiration to me," Yuuri added. "Skating on the same ice as him in the past was a way I pushed myself to do better and now with him as my coach and my fiancé, it works even more so."

"Since you all live together and are competitors, how do you cheer each other on while still trying to win yourself?"

"Victor has been my longtime idol so of course I want to see him succeed but I also want to be at the same level as him," Yuuri answered. "And I have also wished Yuri the best. He's grown a lot over the past year and it suits him, I'm glad to see it in his skating."

"As Yuuri's coach, his success is also my success so it's win-win either way," Victor said. "As for Yurio, I've known him since he was very young, sharing a rink with him for the entirety of his professional career. Of course there is friendly competition between rink mates but their success is never scoffed at. So really no matter who wins I win too."

"Victor is right about the rink mate thing, I may be better than them but I don't wish them to do bad on the international stage," Yuri added. "And Yuuri had proved himself to be a good skater, I expect to see good things from both of them. I don't like disappointment." It was going well so far. "Oh, and I'll have you know. Those two use competitions as a means of assigning household chores," that earned him a laugh.

"What inspired your themes this year?"

Yuri spoke first. "Well my theme is humility and we were playing off the fact that I'm the youngest person to ever win the men's GPF and I hold the world record for my short program," he said. "So the thought was I have all these accomplishments and am a bit of an arrogant person by nature, taking the opposite of that as my theme is a good way to surprise the audience." The reporters seemed satisfied so he stopped there.

"It was only fitting for my theme to be based on what brought me back to the ice," Victor said. "Yuuri had been my source of life, love, and inspiration the last two years and will be for the rest of our lives. My love and gratitude towards him is what inspired my programs. Having the object of your devotion around and cheering you on is a real motivator for success."

Yuuri blushed at that as he always tended to do when Victor said something sweet in public. "My life has been filled with transitions of every sort," he said. "This program is a salute to how those have changed me as a person. They have made me happier and stronger and so much more, I doubt I'd be the person I am today without those transitions in life."

Yuri found it interesting how Yuuri hadn't mentioned anything about his physical transition when that was one of the main things driving it. He would have to ask about it later.

"As Mr. Plisetsky mentioned, between the three of you, you hold all the world records for men's singles. What's that like?"

"I've held all three of those records at various points over the past seven years," Victor answered. "It's more exciting to work towards breaking somebody else's record than it is your own."

"As I've said before, I have always aspired to compete in Victor's level," Yuuri said. "So breaking his record last season was one of my greatest accomplishments."

"Those records will all be mine someday, I've got most of my career ahead of me still and I'm only getting better," Yuri shrugged, it wasn't that big of a deal. "The best part is probably people's reactions to finding out you hold a world record, when they realize all three of us do it's priceless." It really was the funniest thing ever to watch the expressions people got upon that discovery.

"The fan base has begun referring to you two as the podium couple, do you agree with that title?" Another question Yuri didn't have to answer.

"I think that's a very objective answer," Victor said. "Easily a yes on that."

"I think it's sweet the audience gave us a nickname," Yuuri smiled. "And it's a nice reminder of how I've improved."

"Speaking of the podium, how do you guys think you'll place after the free skate? You are all currently favored to medal."

"All three of us would like to say ourselves for that," Yuuri chuckled. "But if I'm being honest, I'd have to say Victor is going to take the gold. His free skate is truly a work of art."

"I'm going to say me," Yuri said. "All the factors are right, I did it last year and I can do it again this year."

"As a coach, I would have to say Yuuri," Victor smiled at him. "But as a competitor, I have to say myself."

"We know that Mr. Katsuki here is a transgendered male, but the rumors circulating say Mr. Plisetsky is as well. Is there any merit to them?" Yuri sighed, he had been expecting that to come up eventually. It seemed until it was explicitly confirmed or denied that they wouldn't let it die.

"The proper term is transgender not 'transgendered' so please refrain from using that in the future," Yuuri immediately jumped in it. "It is quite disrespectful to ask that if anybody. That is Yuri's information to disclose on his own terms whether it's true or not. Now this is really not the setting to be asking those questions, if you would like further information on me and me only then set up a time for an interview about it, otherwise don't ask that again."

Yuri was quite certain that he had almost never been more thankful for Yuuri than in that moment. He really didn't have the patience to deal with questions about that in the moment. Thankfully it seemed the interview was over after that. All he had left to do was have some photos taken with the other two but his overly dramatic yawning soon had that over as well.

"Hey thanks for what you said earlier," Yuri pulled Yuuri aside once they were back to the hotel. "I'm not sure I could've handled that without snapping."

"It was inappropriate of them," Yuuri said. "They weren't supposed to ask those questions and yet they did. Plus, I have more experience with this kind of thing than you do."

"They won't stop until they have their answer," Yuri grumbled. "They don't care that it's harassing a minor."

"As long as I can help it, I won't let that pass anymore," Yuuri assured him. "They should focus on what's more important, skating."

"Yeah," Yuri nodded. "Oh yeah, how come you didn't mention anything about you being trans when they asked about your theme. That was one of the biggest inspirations for it."

"Japan is a very private country," Yuuri told him. "I don't usually speak about it openly unless directly asked. I am giving an exclusive interview about it though along with JJ's younger brother. A company that runs a diversity driven campaign requested it from us and we agreed."

"Do you think people will ever want that from me if I come out?" Yuri asked.

"Probably," Yuuri shrugged. "The way this whole thing started drew a lot of attention to it and that won't fade for a while, especially once you give them the thing that they'll take as permission to ask you even more about it."

"You'll be there for me if I ever do right?" Yuri worried at his lip.

"I'm here for you now," Yuuri smiled. "I'll always be here for you, don't worry."

"Thank you," Yuri didn't know what else to say.

"You don't ever have to thank me for that," Yuuri told him. "I'm here for you because I care. You are a very important person to me Yura, I want you to remember that."

"I will," Yuri nodded. He would try to at least, it was nice knowing he had somebody on his side.

"Is that all you needed to talk about?" Yuuri asked to which Yuri nodded.

"Yeah," he scratched the back of his neck, shifting awkwardly. "Um, could I get a hug?" He hated asking to initiate physical contact.

In lieu of answering, Yuuri just held his arms open and Yuri practically launched himself into them. He dropped him tightly as if the promise Yuuri had just made would disappear if he let go. The hug was warm and comforting. Yuri felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got kinda dialogue heavy towards the end, sorry if that's not your thing. I enjoyed writing this chapter. I think I managed to do okay on what was going on in his head during his skate. 
> 
> I already have decided how they'll place after the FS but what do you think is gonna happen? I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated


	19. Of Nightnares and Impatience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of dissociation/panicking in here

The sound of crickets filled his room. It was winter and he was on the eighth floor. The chirping grew louder.

It was completely dark, no light trickled under the doorframe, heavy curtains blocked the window. He could see everything.

A clock was ticking, the loud all-encompassing sound pressed against his ears. Ticking and chirping. They were the same sound.

The air was stiff, suffocating. He couldn't move. He walked the window. He never moved.

A breeze passed over his face. The window had blown open. The air was hot and heavy against his cheeks. It was winter.

_This wasn't real_.

The city was dark. He feel the darkness working it's way into his eyes, into his heart, into his soul. It was a physical presence. He reached out his hands and the darkness pooled in his cupped palms. His skin disappeared beneath it.

The darkness reached out a curious tendril and wrapped it around his wrist. It was freezing but his arm burnt. He could smell smoke.

_This was all a dream_.

Another tendril reached out and wrapped around his chest. It pulled tight. He couldn't breath he couldn't move.

He was yanked forward out of the window. The darkness engulfed him. He didn't know where he was. Everything faded away until there was nothing but a plane of darkness.

It was all dark, until it wasn't. He was standing on a wall. The wall was made of glass.

He could see the universe stretched out in front of him. Behind him was the darkness. It hungered for more.

One foot in front of the other. He walked, balanced precariously on the wall. The surface was barely wider than his shoe. Balancing was difficult but he could not fall. The darkness was creeping up behind him. He couldn't let it catch up. He couldn't breath.

_He couldn't wake up._

Safety was awaiting him at the end of the line. A line that stretched to infinity. He had to get there. He could feel the darkness lapping at his heels, slowly dissolving him piece by piece. There was sand in his mouth, it grated his throat as he swallowed.

_He needed to wake up_.

The clock was ticking again, louder and louder. His legs were trembling. He he couldn't fall. He had to stay upright, he had to get to safety. Step after step after step. 'Yuuuuuuuuri,' the ticking was joined by a hissing of what had to be his name.

_Why couldn't he wake up? He had to wake up. This wasn't real. He knew this wasn't real._

The darkness was engulfing him from behind. It burnt. His balance was quickly failing him.

The wall was shaking beneath his feet. He was strained from the effort of holding the darkness  at bay. It was inside of him, it had been for a while now. He wasn't strong enough.

He stumbled. It was too much to bear any longer, he couldn't do it. A loud crunch resounded about. The wall beneath his feet was cracking. He tried to run. Step after step. The crunching grew louder. It was too late. It was...

Everything shattered. He was thrown into the air. The pieces of glass flew around him in slow motion, each glinting with more light than he contained.

There were two worlds exploding together. The light and the dark. He was falling.

He was of the light but the darkness had claimed him. A tendril of light wrapped around his wrist to catch his fall but it quickly failed. It was too late. The dark embraced him as he fell farther and farther from the warmth of the light. Shards of glass whirled around him. It was too late.   
\--

Yuri jerked awake, his shirt clung to his back damp from sweat. His breathing was ragged and his heart was racing. He felt as if he could explode at any moment.  Something wet splashed onto his hands, he was crying.

He needed to get away right then, he was trembling uncontrollably. He jumped to his feet but quickly crashed to the floor, his limbs unable to hold him up. A few gasping breaths later and he was upright again. His feet moved of his own accord. His hands opened his door and he stepped out into the harsh lighting of the corridor.

It was two am. Everybody would be upset that he had left his room but he needed to get out of there. His eyes skimmed the numbers on the doors. Room 817, he needed to find room 817.

He was in front of room 845. He took a turn down a hallway and looked, he was still shaking and occasionally had to stop and lean against the wall. The carpet was red and interspersed with the type of pattern only ever found in hotels.

The numbers were counting down. That was good, he was getting closer to where he needed to be. Tears were still streaming down his face and he had to blink aggressively to clear his vision. He had to have been making a ruckus but nobody had woken up to yell at him yet.

He didn't know what he was going to do if this didn't work out. He hadn't thought it through. The key card to his room was still set on the dresser and his phone was there too. He would be stuck in the hallway all night.

He turned another corner and this one seemed much more promising. The numbers were still counting down. 823, 821, 819, and finally 817. Yuri stood outside the door, body trembling, tears streaking his face and his raised his fist up.

The first knock was soft, probably not loud enough to alert a fully awake person to his presence, much less a sleeping one. Even less so a heavy sleeper. He knocked again, three taps, a little bit harder this time. There was no response and he almost gave up. He would have to go down to the lobby in this state and beg for a key to his room without being able to present evidence of his identity. 

Yuri took a shaky breath and wiped at his eyes, a rather useless action considering that he was still crying. He slammed both of his fists against the door again and again, not caring that that would likely result in a bruise in the morning.

After a minute of that there was still no response and he let out a whimper before leaning his forehead against the door. "Please," he breathed. He needed the door to open. He needed in.

Yuri's shoulder began to shake more violently as sob after sob bubbled its way up from his chest, he hit his lip to stay quiet. Just as he was about to give up and walk away he heard rustling on the other side of the door followed by a soft snick as the door was slowly opened. He stepped back and looked up at them with a wobbling lower lip and tears in his eyes.

Victor and Yuuri both looked exhausted and angry but their expressions turned to concern as soon as they saw who it was. "Oh no, Yura," Victor gently pulled him into the room and let the door shut.

"What happened sweetheart," Yuuri instantly leaned down to be level with his face and set a hand on his shoulder.

"I just...dream," Yuri couldn't help but start crying harder. "Sorry. Shouldn't have come."

"No, no don't you worry," Victor set a hand on his other shoulder and he and Yuuri guided him towards the bed and helped him sit down. "We're going to stay up with you as long as you need. Now one of us is going to go grab something to help you feel better. Do you want me to stay with you or Yuuri?"

"Yuuri," Yuri gripped onto the Japanese man all but burying his face against him. He still couldn't stop crying.

"It's okay, I got you," Yuuri pulled him close to his side and rubbed circles on his back. "You're gonna make yourself sick like this honey, you need to calm down. Can you take deep breaths with me?"

Yuri managed a weak nod, this is why he had chosen Yuuri over Victor, Victor was abysmal when it came to crying. He squeezed his eyes shut and listened to the rhythm of Yuuri's breaths. It took a few minutes but eventually he reigned in the body wracking sobs. He blinked away the remaining tears and looked up. "I'm sorry," his voice was hoarse. "I just...I was so sacred. I-I thought I'd been abandoned and I ....came here? Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," he hadn't noticed Victor's return. "We've told you before that you can always come to us. Im glad you trusted us enough to come, you shouldn't have to go through that on your own."

"You're not alone Yura, you won't have to be ever again," Yuuri took something from Victor's hands and pressed it to Yuri's face.

It was a cloth dampened with cool water, it felt soothing against his flushed cheeks. Yuuri gently wiped away all the remnants of tears from his face, he felt better in a way once they were gone. "Would you like to change into a clean shirt?" Victor asked. "Yours can't be too comfortable anymore."

That was a true point, his shirt was still damp from sweat and now from tears as well, it wasn't comfortable at all. He nodded.

"Victor grabbed something for you to change into," Yuuri told him. "Would you like to change in the bathroom or is out here fine?"

"Out here," Yuri mumbled. He was too exhausted now to care about changing in front of them. They shared a changing room all the time anyway, it's not like they hadn't seen him without a shirt. He grabbed at the bottom of his shirt and tugged it off, the process much more difficult than it needed to be.

"Here, this one is nice and soft," Victor pressed the clean shirt into his hands and he pulled it on, a task that went just as smoothly as taking the other off had. It was Yuuri's shirt—his tended to be more comfortable than Victor's—but it was one that seemed to switch ownership every time it was washed. "Is that better?" Victor asked. Yuri nodded again, he was starting to get sleepy now that he was calmer and comfortable.

"My parents used to let me sleep in their bed when I had bad dreams," Yuuri said. "You're welcome to stay with us if you want or we can walk you back to your room. What would you prefer?"

Yuri had never been offered comfort like this after a bad dream, it seemed like such a strange thing to offer but he'd heard them say something like that before. "I don't want to be alone," he muttered, toying at the hem of the shirt. "If it's not too much trouble, could I stay?"

"Yes of course," it was Victor who answered. "The bed is plenty big enough, but be warned, Yuuri steals blankets."

Yuri managed a small laugh. He would have thought itd be Victor who did that. "You sure?" He asked again, as if he was afraid they'd toss him back out into the hallway.

"Of course kitten, come here," Yuuri had moved to his side of the bed and had added an extra pillow in the middle for Yuri. "We should all be getting to sleep now, busy day tomorrow."

Yuri nodded and sleepily crawled to the center of the bed and curled up under the blankets, his eyes already drooping heavily. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep with the comforting presence of both Yuuri and Victor beside him. The last thing he remembered before slipping into unconsciousness was fingers brushing hair out of his eyes and a press of lips to his forehead. The nightmares didn't return.

When he woke up, it took him a minute to remember what had happened and why he wasn't in his hotel room. He groaned and rubbed at his eyes which were still sensitive from crying. Coming here had been a bad idea, now if Victor and Yuuri didn't do well today it would be his fault. At least the men's free skate was the last event to be held so it was later in the day.

A glance to the clock told him it was just about noon which made sense considering how early it had been when he came in. Yuuri wasn't in the room but Victor was still sound asleep, he probably wouldn't get up until it was time to head to the rink.

Yuri carefully extracted himself from the blankets and made sure that Victor was still covered when he stood up. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. He had left his room key in his room and he couldn't very well go walking around in public dressed the way he was. There was no way he could cover his chest well enough to try and get himself a key, and he couldn't even text Yakov about it since his phone was in his room too. And he didn't even have shoes, so going down to the lobby in his current state would do nothing but attract reporters.

After pacing the room a few times he noticed something set on one of the tables and smiled. Yuuri had left a note:

_I left early for my interview, I hope neither of you were woken up by me getting up before you. Don't worry, I feel well rested_

_Yura,  
I noticed you didn't have your key card so I convinced the receptionist to give me a spare. I also stopped by your room and grabbed your warmup jacket for you. The jacket is on the couch and the key is in its right pocket. I hope you're feeling better this morning._

_Vitya,  
I'm still planning on meeting you at the rink at four, text me if you changed your plan. I will call if you don't show up. I took my medication but you know how I get, I'm going to need you by my side later._

_-Yuuri <3 _

A quick glance to the couch showed that his jacket was in fact sitting there. Yuri was pleasantly surprised, though he really should have expected Yuri to do something of the like. He added a scribble to the bottom of the note to say he had left as well and then grabbed his jacket and went back to his room.

The walk was much shorter than it had been the night before, he supposed it was much easier to navigate when he wasn't trembling and crying. Yuuri had had the foresight to hang a do not disturb sign on his knob so Yuri didn't have to worry about waiting for a maid to clean his room.

He noticed that his curtains had been opened and his bed had been made. Another note was set on his pillow:

_Yuri,  
If you want to talk about last night we can after the competition, if you need something beforehand please let somebody know. I'm not going to be in a state of mind to help you near competition so go to Yakov or Lilia instead. Take care of yourself this morning._

_Oh, and I got you a fruit cup it's in your fridge. There's also a little chocolate square for you, don't tell the others._

_-Yuuri_

Yuri smiled and set the note to the side, he was glad that Yuuri cared enough to check up on him. He was even more glad that he didn't have to go down for breakfast. He needed to get himself into the mindset for competition and being around other people wasn't the way to do that.

Music was always a good start, he turned on the playlist Otabek had him listen to the other day because he figured happy music would be a good start. He still felt a little bit off but it was nothing major, he wasn't worried about it.

It only took three songs for that to melt away too. He slowly went about eating the fruit cup and getting dressed, pulling on his cheetah print sports bra because it was cool and he was a winner. Winners wear animal print.

Some of the songs were purely instrumental, others were silly dance ballads essentially, all of them together created an effect that lifted his mood immensely. It was the perfect way to start his morning.

He spent the hour stretching and mentally preparing himself for the upcoming skate, he wasn't worried. He had done this countless times before. His only goal was to step out on the ice and prove he was the best yet again.

The hotel and the ice rink were close enough to walk there and that's just what he did, heading over with the rest of the group sans Victor and Yuuri. He knew Victor would get a call from Yakov twenty minutes before he was expected to show up, that's how it always went.

It was a very windy walk, but even the dreary grey skies couldn't get to him. Heading back to the rink brought with it the promise of a freedom that only came on the ice. He was ready.

He was also very impatient, too much so to watch the event currently happening. "Calm down boy," Yakov said. "You'll wear a track on the floor."

Yuri looked up from his pacing and shrugged. "I want to skate already, this is taking forever," he complained.

"You're going to wear yourself out if you keep this up," Yakov had the slightest tone of a lecture in his voice. "If you're so ready to perform, go through the program mentally. Put yourself in the mindset, yesterday is the best you ever performed your short. I'd like to see the same today."

Yuri sighed loudly and flopped down onto the nearest bench, this was already taking much longer than it needed to. All he wanted to feel was the smooth glide of the ice beneath his skates. He needed that right now, but it would be more than two hours before he would get it.

He complained enough that Yakov finally gave up and told him to take a jog around the arena as they would help with his lent up energy without exhausting him too much. Yuri hated to admit it, but that had been a good idea. He fell into a rhythm and the methodic falling of his feet worked to calm his overactive mind. A lot of his impatience wore off by the time he returned to where Yakov and Lilia were.

"Much better," Lilia nodded her approval. "Patience is a virtue you would benefit from learning, young man."

"I know," Yuri nodded, he had been told that many times, most of them by Lilia.

"If you know so well why don't you act on it?" Yakov grumbled, already having lost his patience for dealing with impatient students of his. "It's close enough. Go get dressed and start on your stretches, the godsend and Vitya will join you soon."

Yuri let out a slight hoot of joy and rushed to change into his costume immediately. He was excited to get on the ice soon. He tugged his headphones over his ears and clicked on his exercise playlist before going through his basic off ice warmup. There was a little bit over an hour left before it would be time to take to the ice, it couldn't go by fast enough.

It didn't take long for him to decide that time was a very very cruel entity. It seemed it went by slower every time he checked until it seemed like it had stopped altogether. Basic warmup stretches didn't take very long and since he had stretched prior to coming to the rink, there wasn't much to do. After finding himself taking a lint roller to his costume for the third time he finally gave up and flopped himself onto a bench to suffer through the wait. It was agonizing.

Yuuri and Victor came in while he was practically hanging upside down from a bench and staring at the wall trying to find a pattern. They both shot him a confused glance but went about their own business without mentioning it. Yuri stayed in that position until the other two were in costume as well.

"You okay over there?" Yuuri asked. "Can't be too comfortable with all that blood rushing to your head."

Yuri flipped back into an upright position and stood up. "I was bored," he shrugged. "I'm about to go out there and win, I just want it to come by faster."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself now," Victor teased. "I must say that my lovely student is quite the competitor, but his coach is even better out there."

"If you try and one up him I will strangle both of you," Yuri glared at them before Yuuri even had the chance to open his mouth. "This is a sappiness free zone, there is no love and adoration allowed until after we're done skating and even then it must be kept to a minimum."

"Such a little dictator," Yuuri laughed softly, he looked as if the anxiety he got before competition hadn't hit full force yet. "Remember, you're a not a tsar today."

"Once I'm on the ice," Yuri said. "This is not ice yet so I can be whatever I want."

"I do suppose we told you that," Victor huffed a dramatic sigh as he went about braiding Yuuri's hair. "We might just have to take that back, you can be anything you want so long as you don't touch that gold medal today."

"You only want it so that you get out of chores," Yuri accused. "We know that's true, don't deny it."

"He has a point Vitya," Yuuri agreed.

"I just want to prove my undying love for you," Victor pouted. "No ulterior motive at all my love."

"Well, I'm out of here," Yuri turned on his heel. "That my exposure to sappiness quota for the rest of forever. I'll do my own hair." He plucked a brush and his tiger clip out of the bag of their stuff and left the room. Those two were insufferable sometimes.

Since his hair was left down for his free skate it was pretty simple to do it himself. He finished with that and then went and found Yakov at the side of the rink. There was only about half an hour at this point and he could feel the excitement starting to build in the arena.

He stood up against the barrier and looked out of the ice that stretched out in front of him. Soon enough he would get to glide over it, it was almost time to fly. He took a deep breath to soak it all in and it hitched in his throat, bringing with it a slight twinge of something in his chest.

He swallowed and shook it off, this was going to go great, he was going to win. Time seemed to go by faster after that, creeping up in him in an unpleasant way. He almost wished for it to slow down again.

"Get your skates on boy!" Yakov called his attention to the fact he wasn't wearing them yet.

Yuri pulled his skates out of their bag and kicked off his street shoes, after pulling on the socks he wore under his skates he slipped them onto his feet and slowly went about tightening the laces. This was one of the best parts about getting ready, he loved the way the skates fit his feet. They felt more natural than anything else, and they had a large blade on them so what could be cooler.

By the time his laces were nice and tight, there was only a minute before the warmup and everybody was getting ready to get onto the ice.  Victor and Yuuri were standing by the entrance to the rink with their hands loosely laced through one another's. Yuri could see the anxiety in Yuuri's posture, could feel it mirrored in his own.

Except, he wasn't anxious. Not exactly, he wasn't nervous either though. There was just this odd feeling lurking in the back of his mind. He shook his head to clear it and then the signal for the warmup rang out. The ice would chase this thing away.

The ice was unmarred, not having had anyone on it since the zamboni ran over it after the last event. Yuri loved knowing that he made some of the first marks upon its pristine surface. He would carve himself out upon this ice and prove he was the best again, but first he would watch all his competitors attempt to do the same.

Cheers ricocheted throughout the arena as the audience fawned over their favorite skaters. Camera crews littered the area around them. All of the excitement so far was building up for this. 

There was something slightly off about the ice beneath his feet, but Yuri didn't worry about it too much. He was well acquainted with the ice having befriended it over a decade ago. The ice was only harsh to those who didn't understand it. And he understood it.

He reluctantly left the ice once the warmup ended, he was adequately warmed up but knew he would have to stretch during the wait. He hated having to wait yet again.

Yuuri and Victor both slipped out of the arena and into the more private space for the athletes, he chose to stay where he was for the time being. There was only so much he could do, and right now he just wanted to stand near the ice until his turn came. A slight tremor began to affect his hands, he clenched them into fists and turned all his attention to the ice.

Christophe was about halfway through his program at this point and it seemed the crowd was taking it well, they always took it well when he skated. It did seem to lack his usual flare though, it was good not great. Though if it were polished up a bit it would be more of a challenge come Europeans and worlds. He couldn't see this program earning more than fourth at this event though, maybe something was off about the ice for Christophe too.

The program ended and the score was announced, it was an average score for Christophe, not very low but not really high either. Phichit was set to take the ice next.

Yuri paid closer attention to this program which certainly was a fan favorite, probably even more of one than his short had been. While Yuri had no clue what Thai traditional clothing looked like, there was no denying that that is what Phichit's costume was styled to look like.

The story telling in the skating was done almost as well as Yuuri's, probably because of Phichit's status as his former rink mate and his closest friend. Strengths tended to be something one helped their rink mates out with so it would make sense that Yuuri had shown Phichit how to nevas expressive as he was being.

The program was of a higher technical difficulty than the one the Thai skater had done the year before. Phichit even almost managed to land a quad salchow, a jump he hadn't landed in competition before. He got enough rotations in though so he would still get some points from the jump.

It was the kind of program specifically designed to pull someone into the wonders of the sport. It was the perfect mix of culture, story, fun, and athletic ability. This was something that everybody could enjoy. Even if Phichit didn't score very high, he had certainly accomplished his goal.

When his score was announced Yuri made sure to clap for Phichit who had scored a personal best and was currently in first. Cheering for the competition was the polite thing to do and he had enjoyed the program.

His hands were still shaking and he couldn't get them to stop. There was a strange feeling in his chest that wasn't going away, he shifted around to attempt to rid himself of it and leaned forward to watch JJ who was just starting his program.

As always, JJ was a master when it came to high jumps, managing to pull heights even greater than even Victor. But being able to jump high wasn't everything.

The program was suggestive of some sort of fight but not exactly a violent one. Yuri wasn't sure but that was what it looked like to him.

About halfway through the program he stood up and began stretching again. Only Yuuri and Victor had to go before it was his turn and he needed to be prepared. The tremor had spread to his legs as well but if he stretched them out it wasn't as noticeable. He bit his lip and tried not to think about it. He still felt like something was trying to sneak up on him.

It wasn't until he heard clapping that he realized JJ's program had ended and his score had been announced. He didn't catch the score but from what he heard he assumed that JJ was in second. And since JJ had just gone, that meant Yuuri was up.

He hadn't noticed Victor and Yuuri coming back into the arena, but that had obviously happened while he wasn't paying attention since Victor was giving Yuuri his customary pep talk. The two of them had their foreheads leaned together and their hands entwined, it was ridiculous. With their bright flashy costumes, they made quite the pair and there would probably be several pictures of them later.

Yuri had seen Yuuri go from shy and anxious to confident many times before, it was a strange thing that seemed to happen almost every time Yuuri took to the ice. And it was no different this time as the Japanese skater made his way to the center of the rink to begin his program. He was exceptional when it came to quelling his anxiety on the ice. Though anyone who knew him well could still see it.

Yuri half watched and half continued his stretches. The program was interesting enough to demand his attention but the mounting anticipation for competition and the odd feeling in his chest made it easy to not pay attention even though it would normally be hard to look away.

Victor had joined him in stretching off to the side, quickly settling into his competitive demeanor. Yuri still wasn't quite in the right mindset for competing but he had to be soon. He had to do better than everyone else. He needed to prove that he was the best, that nothing could keep him from winning.

Breathing seemed to be coming a bit harder than it should have been, his lungs were working just fine but it felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air. He bit his lip and shook his head, he was fine. He had to be fine.

Somehow time slipped away from him and when he looked up again he realized that Victor was already part of the way through his program and Yuuri was beaming off to the side having taken first after his program. He swallowed and it his lip again. Now he was concerned. Something as definitely wrong but he couldn't control it or do anything about it. He was stuck.

His eyes were glued to the ice but he didn't notice anything. He didn't see Victor pull off a flawless quad loop as well as his signature quad flip. He didn't see the way Yuuri's eyes lit up as he watched his fiancé on the ice. Yuri didn't see any of it. As far as he was aware the only thing happening in the moment was the hammering of his heart.

A hand was on his shoulder. It was Lilia. "Are you ready?" She asked, Victor's music was coming to a halt. The music swelled then slowly faded. It was his turn.

Yuri tried to hide his shaking hands as he and Victor traded places on the ice. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and robotically returned the smile Victor offered as he went to claim a kiss from Yuuri and find out his score. Yuri was rooted in spot.

Yakov and Lilia stood in front of him but their words went over his head, he heard nothing but nodded anyway so they thought he was paying attention. He was sure they meant well but that didn't matter in the moment. He didn't know what had gone wrong.

The ground beneath his feet didn't feel like ice, it felt foreign and strange as if it weren't something he had ever made the acquaintance of. The only thing unaffected was his balance.

Cheers arose from the audience, he couldn't be sure who they were for. They sounded like he was hearing them underwater. Everything was garbled and unclear. With each breath he could feel his lungs tightening on him. He felt like something was lurking in his chest, grabbing ahold of his heart and lungs. He swallowed deeply again and took a shuddering breath, being careful to not let that show. A little bit of confidence was all he needed.

His lips felt numb and he wasn't quite sure his legs were attached to his body and he had at least four arms. Something about that seemed off but he couldn't place it. He blinked to clear whatever it was but it stayed the same, the thing in his chest grew larger. "....your best," Yakov was smiling at him, wishing him well. He had a competition.

Yuri nodded and skated to the center of the ice, he was at the ice rink, he had to perform his free skate. He knew what was going on.

He could hear his heart in his ears, hammering away much faster than the music. The music.

Shit. He had missed his cue. A deep breath, he could make up for that. He was on the ice, it was actually ice now he could feel it.

Muscle memory took over, he could skate this. With no expression and a slight tremble, he pressed forward. This program was about rising up, not accepting defeat. That was what he had to do. What he was feeling didn't matter, he couldn't let his skating suffer.

Except he didn't have a choice. He fell hard on his first jump and even harder on the second. Somehow he didn't hold his arms right on a spiral and almost found himself on the ice again. This wasn't right.

An unbalanced spin and he found himself mere inches from crashing yet again, it took two hands to stop this fall. That would certainly chop off precious points. He couldn't afford anymore mistakes, he could still salvage this, if he gave it his all he could land on the podium.

His breath faltered in his lungs, he had nothing to give. Everything inside him had been pushed aside, the only left was the suffocating grip on his chest. Iron claws that held him in a deathly tight embrace. He was no longer skating his program, he was fighting a battle that he had already lost.

The worst part was he had seen this before. One year prior during JJ's short program, two years prior during Yuuri's free skate. It was the one thing he had never worried about happening to him. But it was happening and there was no Plan B when it came to this, he couldn't do this but he couldn't quit.

His heart was beating louder and faster than the music, drowning everything out. Try as he might he couldn't rein this in. He couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't.

The world seemed to stop and it was just him and the same darkness from his dream. The suffocating all pervasive darkness that stole him from himself. Everything froze and he couldve sworn his heart skipped at least one beat. He was mid jump when he knew something was about to go drastically wrong.

The ice rotated around him in slow motion growing closer much too soon. There were only two possibilities here, he chose the second. He crossed his right leg over his left and forced himself to land on his arms and knees instead of on one foot. He had hit the ice much too quickly and it hurt but he had to get up. The stinging in his limbs could be addressed later, right now he had to save as much as his pride as he could.

There was no way he could skate his program in this mindset, he couldn't even fend off whatever this was. But he had come here not only to skate but to win. And if he couldn't do that then he didn't know what he was doing on the ice any longer.

For half a second his heartbeat quieted enough that he could hear his music and figure out where he was. Thankfully the program was almost over, he only had three jumps left and he could downgrade those to doubles. Right now all he could do was finish his program. He couldn't salvage it, but he could finish it.

Yuri managed to fall a total of four more times before the program ended and he looked even more defeated than he had at the start. The audience was quiet, there was only a polite smattering of applause that quickly died out. He got off the ice to find a mixture of disappointment and concern on the faces around him. He really had messed this up big time.

Yakov didn't even have anything to say, he shook his head slightly and gestured towards the kiss and cry. Yuri didn't want to go but it seemed he had no choice but to. Yakov and Lilia walked on either side of him and Yuuri and Victor tagged along behind him. He effectively had nowhere to go but where they were headed, they were herding him like a sheep.

The bench in the kiss and cry was noticeably less comfortable than it had been the day before. The lack of response from the audience stung, there was no cheering at all. He might as well have not performed to start with, now there was no way he could prove that he belonged where he was at.

As soon as he saw the score he got up and ran, he couldn't bear being in the arena a second longer. It didn't matter that his feet were still clad in skates, he left as quickly as possible and sought to find the most isolated place he could without leaving the building. He couldn't face them, he had broken down. He had failed.

Sixth place, he had fallen from first to sixth and was now locked in a bathroom stall like the pathetic being that he was. Tears that he had been barely containing now poured freely down his face.

He hadn't even seen where the others had placed, all he saw was that 6 next to his name and the score that was lower than anything he had ever received in competition. There was no way he could show his face anytime soon, not after failing that badly.

He knew what he had seen, but what he didn't know was that after he had left the rink in a frenzy, JJ and Otabek had started up a cheer and everybody in the arena had clapped for him. He didn't know that Yakov and Lilia were worried sick about where he had gone. He didn't know that Yuuri and Victor had immediately began to search for him, not even thinking about their victories for a second.

All he did know was that he had failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here you go, this took me longer than I had intended but it was midterms week and ugh. Midterms. This is probably not what most of you were expecting or wanting but here it is. Hopefully you at least kinda enjoyed it 
> 
> I'll attempt to get the next chapter up sooner but we shall see. Feedback is much appreciated as always


	20. Of Tears and Good Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a teensy bit shorter than usual but I had to cut it somewhere. This poor child is not a happy one  
> Also, this is not edited please keep in mind that literally none of this has been edited yet

It was Yuuri who ended up finding him, though it took a few knocks on the stall door before he stepped out. He was a mess and he knew it.

"Yuri, what happened?" Yuuri's tone was serious but concerned. "Are you okay?"

By this point all Yuri could do was shrug. "I failed," his voice was flat. "It doesn't matter."

"No, you had a bad day out there," Yuuri corrected. "It happens to everybody. You went out there and did your best and finished what you started. That's all that matters."

"No," he shook his head. "I failed. Something went wrong and I couldn't fix it."

"Was it anxiety?" Yuuri asked. "A panic attack?"

"I don't know," Yuri raked s hand through his hair roughly, knocking the clip askew.

"It's okay if that's what happened," Yuuri said. "Now we can try and make a plan in case it does again."

"I'm not you," Yuri spat. "I'm not some fucking weakling who needs a contingency plan because he panics at everything. I'm not some broken loser who's good for nothing. I don't fucking need your help, leave me alone," he was crying again. He tried to shove Yuuri to the side so he could leave but the older man wouldn't budge.

"Yuri," Yuuri sounded stern and harsh, a tone that was rarely used on him. "It is okay if you need help, attacking other people isn't going to solve anything."

"God, you're such a moron. Fuck you!" Yuri shouted, he was beyond reasoning at this point. "I don't need your help, you're pathetic. It's no wonder you lost to Victor, you're not worthy of him. You'll never beat him because you aren't good enough. You are never going to be good enough. You're so fucking weak, you're the one who should have messed up like this, I hate you. So stop trying to tell me what to do. Just fuck off."

Yuuri's mouth hung agape for a second before he took a deep breath, it was obvious that Yuri had struck a nerve. "You are upset," his tone was unreadable. "Either you talk about what's upsetting or you don't talk at all, those are your only two options. Make your choice."

"Don't tell me what to do," Yuri shoved him away once again, it still didn't prove useful. "Stop acting like you're in charge of me, because you're not. You have no right to tell me what to do. You're not my fucking father." This time he managed to get around Yuuri and leave the bathroom, he wasn't going to deal with this right now and since the medal ceremony would be starting soon, he could use that as cover to slip away. He headed straight back to the hotel, stopping only once to yank his skates off his feet. It was a cold walk back, but he didn't care.

By the time he arrived at the hotel, he was numb and shivering. "Yuri Plisetsky, room 845. I need a key please," he mumbled to the receptionist at the desk. No questions were asked and he was up in his room in no time.

His skates were clutched in one hand and his phone in the other, he didn't remember grabbing his phone but he obviously had at some point. He always set his phone on do not disturb mode during a competition which explained why he hadn't heard it ring or noticed the texts he had been sent.

There were several messages on his phone, most from Victor and Yuuri, but a fair amount from Yakov and Lilia too. He also had a few from Mila and Georgi, both of whom had been watching from in the stands. All of the messages were from before Yuuri had tracked him down, he assumed that once they were done with the ceremony he would get messages again, but he would ignore them.

He didn't see the point in talking toggle, all they would do was make him feel even worse about losing. He knew he had failed and he didn't need to be reminded of that further.

A quick swipe dismissed all the messages on his phone and another click turned his notifications off. He planned on looking through social media anyway, but he didn't care for all the notifications he would get, especially once everyone realized he wasn't there to watch the medal ceremony. If he had it his way he would skip out on going to the exhibition and the banquet as well, there was no point in going anymore. He wouldn't be performing at the exhibition and the banquet would just be another reminder of his failure. And since he had failed as badly as he had, there was no way any sponsors watching would have taken notice of him.

Yuri tossed his phone onto his bed and tore his costume off, taking just enough care to keep it from ripping. He changed into the first comfortable outfit he found and then locked his door from the inside so nobody would be able to bother him.

He was still shaky from what had happened on the ice, and now that nobody was around him, he could feel its effects once again. Whatever it was had passed, but he was still shaky and his breathing was uneven. His body ached and stung from what he was sure would be a plethora of bruises soon enough.

He briefly thought about taking a shower but deemed it too much effort and climbed up into the bed. His hair was tangled and all over the place, but even that was too much effort to bother with right then. It was warm and quiet in the hotel, a sharp contrast to the bustling chaos of the arena.

Yakov was sure to give him a chewing out about running off like he did, but it's not like it mattered. Nobody cared to interview the guy who came in last, even less so when he wasn't even a real guy.

Yuri sighed and buried his face in his hands. He wasn't sure if he was sad or angry or overwhelmed, but he felt terrible. He had just gone out and showed the media exactly what they needed to prove he didn't belong. He hadn't thought he was capable of crying anymore and yet he found that his cheeks were damp with tears once again. He needed something or somebody but he didn't know what.

He unlocked his phone and tapped out a text message to Yuuri before deleting it, he couldn't go to anyone with his problems. Especially not Yuuri.

Instead he pulled up social media to see exactly how the others had placed because he didn't actually know, he had just assumed. Since most of his feed was ice skating, it didn't take long at all to find the scores and various short posts about the results. It was approaching an hour since the competition had ended and a lot of sites worked rather quickly about getting news up.

His eyes skimmed down his feed until landing upon exactly what he had been looking for, the official results:

_Men, Final Result_  
1 Victor NIKIFOROV 331.55  
2 Yuuri KATSUKI 306.87  
3 Phichit CHULANONT 299.68  
4 Jean Jacques LEROY 296.79  
5 Christophe GIACOMETTI 291.87  
6 Yuri PLISETSKY 253.18

Excluding him and Victor, the scores were all fairly close. He winced at the almost 80 point gap between the two of them? It just made his failure sting even more. He couldn't quite recall Victor's exact short program score, but if he was right it looked as if Victor had scored a personal best on his free skate. A short article Yuri found soon confirmed that:

_Nikiforov Takes Gold: Reclaims World Record_

_Victor Nikiforov, now six-time Grand Prix Champion, reclaims men's free skate world record after stunning program. Nikiforov pulled an astounding 24.68 lead over second place Katsuki Yuuri of Japan. Nikiforov's free skate score was 223.84, which is 2.26 points higher than the previous record set by Katsuki—his student, fiancé, and fellow competitor—the season before._

_Nikiforov has proven that even at the age of almost 29, years beyond when most professional skaters retire, he is still a formidable opponent._

_Nikiforov's theme for the season is 'A Love Letter,' in a prior interview he stated, "[Katsuki] is my inspiration, the love of my life. Without him I wouldn't be skating this season, these programs are my thank you to him. A love letter I could never put into words."  The program was beautifully skated to a piece he had composed for the purpose of such. There is certainly much to look forward to from Nikiforov as he goes on to compete in Russian Nationals, Europeans, and the World Championships later this season._

Yuri swallowed hard, suddenly remembering what he had said to Yuuri in the bathroom. Of course he hadn't meant any of it, but in the heat of the moment he just wanted somebody else to hurt as much as he was hurting. He could already feel regret and guilt bubbling up in his chest, he knew Yuuri would compare himself to Victor and only see that point discrepancy, not his second place. It was such a huge point margin compared to the year before when Yuri pulled his victory with only a fraction of a point.

He wanted to text Yuuri to say something. An apology maybe, let him know that he hadn't meant what he had said. But the damage was already done, he couldn't change that. He would apologize, but not right now. Not when he was still upset and angry and confused, not when he would probably end up blowing up at somebody again.

Yuri didn't know what to do, the medal ceremony would be over by now and soon enough the interviews would be dying down. He was inevitably going to be confronted at some point, but he didn't want to talk about it. He knew that he had failed out there, he didn't need to hear commentary on just how badly he had messed up each jump and spin. If he wanted to know all he had to do was look at every place on his body that was aching.

He scrolled through his feed a little bit more and found a few comments from some Yuri's  Angels who were voicing their disappointment in not seeing him during the ceremony. He knew better than to keep reading what people were saying about him, but he did anyway:

**sk8lyfe** : yuratchka was so friendly at his meet and greet, too bad he didn't medal  
 **tyber-fire** : looks like the little girl couldn't hold up with the big boys  
 **ang3lyuri** : wonder why yuratchka wasn't skating like normal today  
 **theicedknight** : real pity that girl fucked up so bad now theyll never let things like her skate  
 **twinswhoskate** : yuratchkas sp was so beautiful, hopefully he'll fix his fs for worlds  
 **evysalem** : i wish i could've watched in person, Yuri is still inspirational though he messed up   
**meeboi-meehoi** : god that yeva kid fucked up, she musta been doping last year  
 **triiplefliip** : terrible execution forn a so called champion, bet it'll be disqualified now

Yuri found himself grinding his teeth after reading for a minute or so. Even though there were just as many positive comments as there were negative, he still felt as if he had utterly failed and let down all his fans.

He refreshed the page and pictures of the medal ceremony began popping up. Phichit with his bronze. Yuuri with his silver. Victor with his gold. The three of them on the podium, with flowers, holding their medals up. Yuuri and Phichit with their arms around each other's shoulders beaming in the way that only best friends can. Victor standing back looking proud. Phichit looking accomplished and determined. Victor kissing his gold medal. Yuuri kissing Victor's medal. Victor kissing Yuuri's temple.

Yuri shut the app and turned his phone off. It was all too much for him to look at. It should've been him on that podium but he had messed up. He didn't even have a reason for it, he just had. No injury, no sudden occurrence to cause him reason to fail, just incompetence.

He didn't know what to do about it, he hadn't messed up that badly before. Of course he had competitions in which he hadn't done his best, but this was an entirely different level. Instead of thinking about it, he opted to grab his blanket and pull it over his head, isolating himself from the outside world. He closed his eyes tightly and just sat there in the middle of the bed with his legs crossed. He would just hide from everything for a while.

Yuri wasn't sure how long he had been holed up in his room for when a knock sounded at his door. "Go away," his voice was muffled by the blanket. He didn't want to talk to Yuuri or Victor and he didn't care to talk to Yakov or Lilia. All he wanted was to be left alone. The knock sounded again. "I said go away," Yuri spoke a little louder this time. "I don't want to talk to any of you."

Whoever it was knocked one more time but Yuri didn't say anything, he wanted them to leave. "Yuri, let me in," it was hard to identify who was speaking but it didn't sound like Victor or Yuuri. "I tried calling and you didn't answer, I know you're in there. I have a key but I'd rather you let me in yourself."

Yuri frowned but shifted towards the end of the bed and considered getting up. It seemed like he might have to yell at the person to get them to go away, apparently he hadn't made it clear enough that he didn't want to talk. "Just leave me alone," he grumbled, not that they could hear him anyway.

He heard the sound of a key being inserted into the door before it swung open and caught on the chain lock. "Yuri please," he could hear the voice more clearly now. "Come on soldier boy, open the door." It was Otabek, he hadn't been expecting that.

Yuri reluctantly stood up and trudged over to the partially open door, a blanket wrapped around the top of his head and his shoulders. "What do you want?" He asked weakly, peeking out through the gap.

"To talk," Otabek answered, a look of mild concern on his face. "Can't I cheer up my best friend?"

"Don't you have someone better to attend to?" Yuri frowned. "Maybe, I don't know, your boyfriend. Not a failure like me." He moved to push the door shut, but Otabek easily prevented that.

Otabek made a show of looking over his shoulder and peering into Yuri's room, a confused expression on his face. "Where's the failure?" He asked. "I don't see it."

Yuri frowned and pointed at himself. "I am a failure. I failed. You're looking at him."

"Hmm," Otabek hummed. "All I see is the world record holder for men's figure skating short program. The gold medalist from last seasons Grand Prix final. One of Russia's top male figure skaters. A world junior champion, a person who holds many many more medals beyond that. And one of this seasons top six figure skaters," he listed. "Are you sure we're talking about the same person?"

Yuri sighed and pushed the door shut just enough for him to undo the latch, then he turned and wordlessly walked back to his bed and took a seat once again, allowing Otabek to come in. "Can't have you standing in the hall like an idiot," he grumbled once his friend had taken a seat. "There's still no reason for you to be here though."

"There is plenty of reason for that," Otabek said. "You stormed off and left the arena without telling anyone where you were going. Everyone was worried sick about you, but they couldn't very well skip out on the medal ceremony and interviews."

"Yeah well they don't need to worry," Yuri crossed his arms, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders in the process. "And if they are so worried, they could've checked up on me themselves."

"You haven't been answering your phone," Otabek pointed out. "They were trying. Victor found me right as I was about to head back and gave me a key to your room."

"Oh," Yuri's voice was flat. "So you didn't actually come because you wanted to," he looked down. "Tell them I'm fine and that if they're so fucking worried they can come to me themselves. You can go now."

"Yuri," Otabek sighed. "That's not the only reason I'm here, I was going to talk to you anyway. You're my best friend and I wanted to come cheer you up. Victor gave me a key because he knew you wouldn't let anyone in," he hesitated. "And they would have come themselves, but Yuuri looked pretty upset about something. I'm not sure though."

Yuri winced at the part about Yuuri being upset, that was at least partially his fault. "Fine, whatever," he huffed. "Stay if you must. But you still have better places to be than here. Nobody cares about the loser, you should be off with someone better."

"The entire reason I'm here is because you're acting like this," Otabek told him. "I just want to cheer you up, there's no harm in that. I could smuggle you some snacks you're not allowed to eat during the season, or we could watch a movie. I'm sure there's a whole plethora of cat videos out there you haven't seen. Or music, we could listen to some music."

"I don't want to be cheered up," Yuri sighed. "I've messed up at competitions before, I don't know why it's different this time."

"There were some pretty high expectations on you, most set by yourself," Otabek said. "You felt like this competition would be proof you belong, but you don't need to prove that. It's okay to be upset."

"I was supposed to win," his voice came out harsher than he intended. "I did so well last year and I did so well in my short, but I completely fucked up today. And it wasn't some little 'oh I got fourth, barely missed the podium thing.' Practically forty points below the person above me. Almost eighty below Victor. That's a huge failure."

"You had one bad day, that's not failing," Otabek shook his head. "It happens to everybody."

"It's not okay," he rose his voice. "Last year I did much better, it doesn't make sense that I messed up so badly. I got 319.53 last year, it was only 253.18 this time. That's a 66.35 point difference there. There was a 10.24 point drop from my short last year to this year, but that's okay I can't set a record every year. But the point discrepancy on my free was 56.11, that's  way too fucking much."

"Okay, calm down with the numbers there," Otabek stretched his hands out in a stop motion. "How do you know all those anyway?"

"It's just addition," Yuri half shouted. "That doesn't matter, it's the numbers that show how much I failed. You can't get around the numbers, they don't lie."

Otabek stood up and walked over towards Yuri. "Yuri, you're getting all worked up, you need to calm down," his voice was soothing. "Am I allowed to touch you? I know you don't always like that."

Yuri's knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping at the blanket, he glanced up to meet Otabek's gaze. "I'm not worked up about anything," he snarled. "I'm fine."

Otabek took his lack of an answer as permission and hesitantly brushed Yuri's hair out of his eyes before setting his hand on his shoulder. "I'm not good at this," he said. "I don't know how to help you when you're like this, you need to work with me here."

"I said I'm fine," Yuri glared at Otabek's hand but didn't make any attempt to move away. "There's no need to help me. I know I'm a failure. You can't help me because there's nothing to help. I thought I could got out there and skate with the men, but I was wrong. You can't fix this because I'm a fucking freak of nature Beks," he was visibly shaking by now.

"Yuri, no, you aren't a freak," Otabek assured him. "One bad day doesn't make you a failure, it's okay."

"No it's not!" Yuri shouted. "None of that is true. I fucking fucked up. If I were a real boy that wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't have reporters asking left and right about what's in my pants. I wouldn't have to deal with all the fucking dysphoria this comes with. All I did was prove I don't belong. Maybe I should just fucking quit."

"Yuri," Otabek seemed to have figured out that reasoning with him wasn't going to work. "We can talk about this, but you need to calm down first. I'm going to sit down next to you, okay?" He looked to Yuri for a response.

Yuri glowered at him but moved over so that he could sit. He tugged the blanket even tighter around himself.

Otabek sat down so that his shoulder was just barely brushing Yuri's. "See that wasn't so hard," he smiled slightly. "Now what was it you said earlier, numbers don't lie?"

"No, they don't," Yuri grumbled. "And all of the numbers show that I'm a fail-"

"Yuri what's three plus four?" Otabek cut him off quickly.

"Seven, I'm not an idiot," Yuri snapped. "I am a failure though."

"Eighty-seven minus fifty-nine then," Otabek ignored his comment, pulling up the calculator on his phone.

"Twenty-eight," Yuri grumbled. "Why does this matter? Stop giving me stupid problems and let me speak."

"You need to calm down," Otabek repeated. "And this gets your mind on something else. Now what's 3.1 times 5?"

"Ugh," Yuri groaned. "It's fifteen and a half, are we done now?"

"Thirteen divided by four?"

"Three and a fourth."

"Twenty-nine plus sixty-seven?"

"Ninety-six."

"Eight times twelve?"

"Also ninety-six," Yuri made a face. "That's not even hard. This is like primary school stuff."

"If you say so," Otabek looked mildly impressed. "Um, 214 divided by 6?"

"Thirty-five and two-thirds," Yuri sighed. "Are you done here?"

"Seventeen squared?" Otabek asked.

"Not hard, its 289."

"How the hell did you know that?" Otabek looked confused.

"It's not like it's hard or anything," Yuri shrugged, Otabek's attempt at distracting him beginning to work. "It's just basic number manipulation that you learn when you're like twelve."

"Okay then what's 289 times 25 then?" Otabek asked, obviously trying to push the limit of his mental math.

"That's a square number multiplied by another square," Yuri said, thinking on it for just a second. "Seventeen times five is eighty-five and that squared is 7,225. Are we done now?"

"Okay just one more," Otabek was definitely surprised by that. "Um, what's the square root of 5109?"

"The closest square to that is 5041, which is seventy-one squared," Yuri didn't miss a beat. "So that would be, to one decimal place, approximately 71.5," he shrugged.

"And you never thought to mention that you were a math genius as well as a figure skating prodigy?" Otabek raised an eyebrow. "That seems like something to mention."

"I'm not a math genius," Yuri was confused, he hadn't done anything complicated at all. "That was all stuff I learned before enrolling in online school full time. It isn't difficult at all. And if I were a prodigy I wouldn't have failed as bad as I did."

"I won't argue with you about either of those," Otabek shook his head. "But since you calmed down a bit, what do you want to do now? All of my offers still stand: snacks Lilia would skin you for eating, cat videos, music, a movie?"

Yuri sighed softly and slowly relaxed his grip on the blanket, his arms sore from how stiff he had been holding them. "Snacks sound nice I guess. And I'm always up for cat videos."

"Alright, sounds good," Otabek smiled. "Would you like to come with me to get the snacks or do you want to stay here?"

"I don't think..." Yuri trailed off and shook his head. "There will be reporters out there," his voice was small.

"I understand," Otabek told him. "You can queue up some videos and get comfortable. I'll be ten minutes or less. I have a key, so I'll just let myself in."

Yuri nodded and slowly went about moving once the door closed behind Otabek. His limbs were still a bit stiff from having held them in one position for so long. As he moved, the stiffness faded and he stretched out a little bit. It felt nice. He hadn't properly cooled down after skating and he was certain that everything would hurt in the morning, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

He rummaged around in his bag before pulling his laptop out, he didn't always bring it with him to competitions but he had this time. He was thankful for that, watching videos on the computer screen was much nicer than watching them on a phone screen would be.

After turning his computer on he set it aside to start up while he propped pillows up against the headboard of the bed so there would be a comfortable place to sit, and lastly he spread out the fluffy blanket that had been wrapped around his shoulders a bit earlier. He didn't think there was much more he could do to make it comfortable, so he flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for his friend to come back.

True to his word, it only took eight minutes for Otabek to return. He came back into the room with a small satisfied smile on his face and a bag full of treats that most definitely should not be consumed by professional athletes in the middle of a season. "Alright, I've got everything we probably shouldn't have, you ready for this?"

"Yeah sounds good," Yuri got up and grabbed his laptop from the side table while Otabek opened a container of cookies for them to share. When he turned around to climb back onto the bed, he found himself suddenly engulfed by a pair of arms and a blanket. He lost his balance and fell forward, barely managing to hold only his laptop. "Hey, what was that for?"

Otabek merely grinned and plucked the computer out of his hands. "Just want to see a smile soldier boy," he sat down and patted the spot next to him. "Thought I was allowed to hug you."

Yuri stuck his tongue out and took the seat. "Doesn't mean you should."

"I have—what do you call it?—'best friend privilege,'" Otabek teased. "Which means that yes I can and yes I should."

"You are a terrible person," Yuri grumbled. "You're worse than Victor and Katsudon."

"Oh, is that so?" Otabek raised an eyebrow. "I guess I'll just leave and tell them that they should come cheer you up instead."

"That won't be necessary," Yuri grabbed at his laptop and clicked play on the video he had pulled up. "It's too late anyway, you can't walk away now."

Otabek laughed and the two of them fell into silence. The videos were funny and Yuri soon found that he was genuinely enjoying himself. It was easy to feel better when watching cats failing at being cats in the presence of his best friend. Between that and the cookies, it wasn't long before he had a slight smile on his face.

The videos allowed him to focus on something else and he found himself laughing. His favorite had to be one where the owner managed to get their cat to loop its front paws around a stair banister and slide all the way down it to the bottom before falling into a cardboard box. He replayed that one three times because of the sheer hilarity of it.

With a blanket secured over his right shoulder and Otabek pressed against his left, he felt safe. Which is perhaps why after an hour or so, all the emotions he had been ignoring hit him all at once.

He didn't know what had brought it on, but suddenly he was hunched forward with his head in his hands sobbing his eyes out. The tears seemed to come from nowhere and he didn't know how he still had any left after the crying he had already done. But he couldn't do anything to stop the flow.

His shoulders shook with the effort, and he felt as if he would fall into pieces at any second. He didn't know how his body managed to stand up to the shaking, it was so weak in every other aspect.

All of his focus was expended on breathing. He didn't notice the laptop being taken off of his lap or the arm drawn around his shoulders. He didn't hear the soothing words of comfort that were uttered to him.

Yuri had been too busy beating himself up over his failure to actually let himself know how he felt. He had felt anger and only anger. But once he let his guard down surrounding his emotions, it all slipped out, and now he couldn't control it. He curled in on himself as much as possible but even the tight grip he had on his arms wasn't enough for him to feel put together.

"Yuri, Yuri. You're okay," Otabek's voice eventually cut through to him. "You're safe, you're here, you're okay. Crying is okay. But you need to breath."

Yuri looked up, his tear stained face glistening in the light from the lamp. He didn't feel okay at all. "Not okay," the words came out more resemblant of a sob than actual speaking, he couldn't even tell what language he had spoken in.

"You will be okay," Otabek's tone was comforting. "Can I pull you into a hug?"

Yuri wasn't sure how to answer so he just nodded. Otabek shifted next to him before wrapping both of his arms around him. At first it was a gentle touch, barely there, as if he were afraid Yuri would break. But then Yuri grabbed onto his shirt as if it were his lifeline and clung tightly, probably ruining the shirt with tears in the process. Otabek tightened the hug at that, sensing that Yuri needed the comfort. "You're going to be okay," Otabek whispered.

Yuri didn't know how long they sat there like that, but eventually the sobbing slowed. Even when it faded to just the occasional hiccup, he still clung onto his best friend. Neither of them said anything, nor did either of them let go. He was grateful for that, he needed the comfort of someone there with him. He needed to not be alone, and he wasn't. Knowing that he was safe allowed him to relax, something that he couldn't always do after breaking down like that.

He focused on his breathing and got it into a nice rhythm, for the first time that day he cleared his mind and focused on calming himself down through some of the mechanisms Yuuri had taught him. After a while he found that his eyes were droopy and his head was nodding, all of the crying had drained his energy and it had gotten pretty late. It didn't take long for him to drop into a light sleep.

After a while, Otabek gently shook him awake. "Hey you fell asleep," he said quietly. "You'll have to move in order for me to go."

Yuri looked at him through mostly closed eyelids. "Hmm," he hummed, too tired to really string words together. "No, stay. Can't be 'lone."

"Do you want me to take you to Victor and Yuuri? Or have them come here," Otabek offered.

"No," Yuri poked at Otabek sleepily. "You stay."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have them with you?" Otabek asked. "I mean, they're practically your family."

"Yeah," Yuri mumbled. "Are family. Said mean stuff to Yuuri. Told him he was no good. Didn't mean it, he is good," he broke off into a yawn and his eyes fluttered shut.

"So do you want to go to them?" Otabek asked again.

"You stay," Yuri repeated. "Is friend. Friend is good. Should stay. Need a friend," he was too tired to speak coherently.

"Okay," Otabek said. "I can stay if you want me to, you don't have to be alone. Just let me take care of the snacks and your laptop and turn off the light. I have to get up to do that, but I'll come right back."

Yuri was just awake enough to realize that Otabek couldn't get up unless he moved to the side. It took him a second but he did manage to slide over just enough to let him up. His limbs felt like they were made of jelly, they didn't exactly move when he told them to. He hummed when the light turned off.

"Would you prefer me to sleep on the couch?" Otabek asked. "I'll still be in here and you won't be alone."

"No," Yuri said. "Here, by me. Is safe. Are friends. Is a sleepover?"

"Okay then," Otabek climbed back onto the bed. "You can't get angry in the morning soldier boy, you requested the company."

"I know," Yuri hummed. "I like having a friend. You are a good friend," he yawned.

"You're a good friend too," Otabek said.

Yuri didn't hear him, he was already fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so their scores are roughly based on the ones from the season before, I put a bit of effort into figuring them out. The scene between Yuri and Otabek is not intended to be romantic, it's loosely based on how my best friend used to cheer me up when I was upset or calm me down when I had bad anxiety. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. I thrive on feedback, it makes me happy and then I write faster


	21. Of Apologies and Necessary Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took forever but the chapter is actually twice this length and I cut it in half down the middle. There are probably a lot of errors in this I'm well aware of that. Sorry for the wait. I'll post the second half soon

  
Yuri woke up with his left hand tucked up near his heart and his right arm outstretched and brushing against a warm mass. The blanket was imparting the perfect amount of warmth upon him and he was more comfortable than he had been since leaving Russia. In fact, it took him a few minutes to realize that he wasn't in his own bed and was in a hotel instead. Once he realized that everything else came back to him as well, including his poor performance the day before and his actions afterward.

He rolled onto his back and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, accidentally smacking Otabek in the face as he stretched. Thankfully, his friend was still asleep and didn't seem to notice. Based on the light coming in from around the curtain, Yuri guessed that it was still fairly early in the morning.

It was the last day of competition and he would be expected to go and watch Mila's free skate, not that he minded. Other than that he didn't have much going on. The gala and the banquet weren't until the next day, and he wouldn't be skating since he hadn't medaled. If he had it his way he would already be back in Russia with his cat. But sadly he would have to wait a few days.

Since it was still early he had the option of going back to sleep if he so desired, but he found that he was unable to. Despite the warmth from the blanket and soft sounds coming from Otabek, sleep evaded him. He didn't want to go back on social media after the shut he had seen the day before so he decided to get up and take a shower since he hadn't had the energy to after getting back to the hotel.

He slipped out from under the blanket as carefully as he could so as not to disturb his friend who made a slight sound when he stood up. After making sure it wouldn't wake Otabek up, Yuri moved around the room and grabbed himself some clothes to change into. He would likely end up encountering fans and reporters that day, so he decided upon wearing a simple training outfit underneath his stand in team jacket, it was too early in the day to put his binder on, so he settled on the sports bra that did the best job at hiding his chest. The layers would certainly do the rest of the job in hiding it.

It took a while for the shower to warm up, so he stood with his back to the mirror for a few minutes before deeming it acceptable. The water wasn't quite as warm as he would like it, but it was a hotel so it was better than it could have been.

He cursed under his breath at not having brought his own soap with him. The cleaning staff hadn't restocked the mini shampoo and conditioner bottles so he didn't have quite enough for his hair and the soap was harsh on his sensitive skin. It smelled good though, so that was a plus.

The water only stayed warm for a few minutes, so he got out much sooner than he would have preferred to, but considering how many people were probably using the showers right now he was glad to have gotten some warm water at all.

He towered off quickly and changed into his clothes to avoid letting the chill of the bathroom air set in. He tied his hair back with a pony tail holder he had around his wrist and left it to dry on its own.

Otabek was sitting up and speaking softly into his phone when Yuri came back out. "-having fun,"  he was smiling slightly and Yuri couldn't tell who he was talking to.

"Yes of course I watched, you know I was there," Otabek laughed, his expression softer than it usually ever was.

Yuri quietly took a seat on the couch so as not to disturb him, he knew Otabek would likely end the call soon since he was back in the room, so he would just wait.

"Yes of course the lutz was good as ever, I'll still beat you at worlds though," Otabek rolled his eyes. "I have to go zhanym, I did promise to eat with your family tonight, that still stands. I know, I know. Get over yourself," his tone was playful and he fell silent for a minute. "As you say. I miss you too, now bye," he shook his head and laughed.

"That was JJ wasn't it?" Yuri accused. "You were all sappy, you even blushed."

"I'm allowed to be affectionate Yuri," Otabek laughed again. "How are you feeling this morning? You seem in a better mood."

"I am," Yuri nodded. "I think I just needed to cry and sleep. Now I just have to make amends."

"You yelled at Yuuri, didn't you?" Otabek asked. "I remember you saying something about that."

Yuri looked down in shame. "Yeah. I was angry and I took it out on him."

"Well you know that Victor and Yuuri both love you," Otabek said. "I'm sure what you said is forgivable, you just have to apologize."

"I know," he scratched the back of his neck. "They probably regret taking me in."

"Based on the number of texts I got from the two of them asking about your well being, I highly doubt that," Otabek told him. "Honestly, I'm kind of surprised that haven't like adopted you or something."

"Nobody wants me enough for that," Yuri said. "I'll just be in the grey zone of who had custody of me until I age out of that."

"Would you like me to braid your hair?" Otabek changed the topic. "I do it for my sisters all the time."

"Okay," Yuri nodded. "I would appreciate that."

Otabek gestured for him to take a seat and then went and found Yuri's hairbrush. Neither of them spoke. Yuri didn't know what to say and Otabek wasn't a big talker anyway, so they just sat in silence as Otabek went about doing his hair.

Yuri closed his eyes and partially leaned back into the touch. They both knew Otabek was spending much more time than necessary brushing Yuri's hair back, but neither of them commented on it. For Yuri it was a comfort, something he needed in order to stay calm. He had a feeling Otabek could sense that.

"You okay soldier boy?" It was Otabek who broke the silence finally. Yuri's hair had been done for a few minutes and Otabek had been running his fingers through the part left down.

"Probably not," Yuri admitted. "Not yet at least. I will be though, soon enough."

"Is it because of how you placed or something else?" Otabek asked, continuing to play with Yuri's hair.

Yuri sighed. "I don't really know," he frowned. "That wasn't just a bad day out there, something caused it and I don't know what. It wasn't normal."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Otabek moved so that Yuri was leaning against him.

"You wouldn't understand," Yuri said but continued to speak anyway. "You're perfect. You with your motorcycle and your leather jacket and your cool not phased by anything attitude. They're never going to question your legitimacy."

"Yuri-" Otabek tried to speak but was promptly cut off.

"Don't interrupt me," Yuri said. "I won't be able to say this if you do." Otabek nodded.

"Like I said, you're perfect, you're fucking perfect," Yuri continued. "All of you are. You, JJ, Victor, Chris. Everyone else out there. And there's me who's apparently such a pathetic excuse of a skater now that the reporters won't even ask me about my skating.

"Do you know what it's like to be asked about what's in your pants every time you go compete? No, of course you don't, because they don't ask you that. They don't even ask Yuuri that, when it's confirmed that he isn't normal to their standards either.

"Last year I was Russia's poster child and now I'm barely an afterthought. They aren't even calling me the second Victor Nikiforov anymore. All the nicknames stopped, now I'm just the freak kid. They act as if I didn't win last year, as if I don't have a world record."

"So you're just upset about the media tackling this story?" Otabek asked when Yuri stopped for air.

"No," Yuri shook his head. "That's part of it but it's not really the problem."

"Do you want to tell me what the problem is then?" Otabek asked.

"I'm not...I wish...I don't," Yuri stumbled over what to say. "Life would be so much easier if I was a girl. I hate this part of me."

Otabek didn't say anything, he just sat there quietly waiting for Yuri to speak again. Yuri closed his eyes and sighed, usually he would be tearing up at this but he seemed he didn't have it in him to cry.

"I was okay before everybody found out because then it was just my secret, my problem to take care of," Yuri's voice was quiet. "A shameful secret to hide under layers of clothing."

"You shouldn't have to be ashamed of yourself, Yuri," Otabek told him.

"I know that," Yuri frowned. "But it doesn't change the fact that I am. There's so much to be ashamed of. I hate how short I am and how high my voice is. I hate how soft my face is. I hate how I fucking bleed from my fucking vagina for a week every month. I hate that I fucking have one of those," he spat. "I hate how my chest curves and how I can't wear my binder most of the time and how even when I do you can still see its curve. And every time I get called she or miss or lady, it feels like I'm being stabbed."

"Yuri, I don't know what you want me to say," Otabek said. "You're my best friend, I've looked up to you athletically for years. I'm not going to tell you you shouldn't feel that way. I will say that I wish you didn't."

"There isn't anything you can say," Yuri sighed. "It's not like you can fix this or anything. Nobody can. I just want to be normal."

"There's a lot of things you are, but normal certainly isn't one," Otabek told him. "And not in a bad way. I can't say I know anyone else who's quite like you and I don't think I want to. Plus, I'm pretty sure prodigy and normal are mutually exclusive."

That managed to bring the slightest hint of a smile to Yuri's face. "You're probably right but still."

"I'm sure Yuuri would be a much better person to talk to about this than I am," Otabek said. "He can relate at least."

"He never talks about it though," Yuri said. "I wouldn't want to bother him about it."

"Yuri, his theme this season is about it," Otabek pointed out. "I'm sure he would talk about it if you brought it up. He doesn't seem the kind of person to do so unless you want to."

"You're right again," Yuri said. "I really need to apologize to him, I said some really nasty things yesterday."

"Are you feeling better now," Otabek asked.

"I guess," Yuri shrugged. "I wasn't exactly upset to begin with, that was something I needed to say."

"Do you want to go talk to Victor and Yuuri now?" Otabek asked. "I'm sure they're still worried about you."

"I'd like you to walk over with me," Yuri said.

"Alright," Otabek nodded. "I'll do that. Text me if you need me again today. I'm eating dinner with JJ's family tonight and I'm pretty sure Yuuri was invited as well which invites you and Victor by proxy, you should come."

"Okay," Yuri said, pulling away from his friend and standing up. "They'll probably drag me along anyway and as long as you and JJ are less sappy than Katsudon and the geezer, it'll be fine."

"I make no promises," Otabek laughed softly as they headed out into the hallway.

Yuri rolled his eyes but didn't say anything about that. They stopped outside Victor and Yuuri's door and he threw his arms around Otabek. "Thank you for coming yesterday," he said. "It really helped to have somebody there."

"Of course, soldier boy," Otabek said. "Anytime."

Yuri clung onto his friend for a minute or two longer and then let him go. "You can leave now," he told him. "I'll see you later." Otabek nodded and walked away.

Yuri stood outside the door for a minute before knocking, he didn't quite know what to say but he wanted to apologize as soon as possible.

Victor opened the door by himself and most of the lights were off in the room. "Oh, hi Yurio. You're feeling better?"

"Yes, I uh," he shifted awkwardly. "I came to say sorry."

"Well I'm not the one you owe an apology," Victor said, stepping out into the hallway and mostly closing the door.

Yuri stated at his shoes. "I know," he muttered. "I need to apologize to him."

"I can ask him if you can come in," Victor said. "He's really shaken up about losing to me I guess, he even tried to sleep on the couch last night and wouldn't agree to sleep on the bed with me, so I ended up on the couch. I couldn't let him do that."

"Oh," the guilt hit Yuri full force, this was all his fault.

"He woke up late today and his medicine hasn't kicked in yet," Victor said. "I think this might be one of his bad days."

"I'm so sorry," Yuri still refused to meet Victor's gaze. "This is all my fault, I shouldn't have yelled."

"You know how he is, he gets these ideas in his head sometimes," Victor said. "It isn't anybody's fault."

That was when he realized it. Yuuri hadn't told Victor what he had said, just that he had gotten angry when confronted the day before. Yuri didn't know what to think about that. "Do you think I could go talk to him?" Yuri asked, his chest filled with shame.

"I'll go ask him for you," Victor said. "I'll be right back." He shut the door behind him and left Yuri to wait in the hallway.

He shuffled back and forth anxiously as he waited. He couldn't think of a reason for Yuuri not telling Victor what he had said to him. He had been a terrible person and both of the other two had been affected by it. Really Yuuri should just flat out refuse to see him, he didn't deserve to get to talk to the other man after what he had said.

Victor came back out a few minutes later. "He said that he only wants one other person in the room right now so you're free to go in," he pulled the door open and gestured for Yuri to enter. "I'm going to find Yakov and the others, one of you can text me if necessary, otherwise I'll be with them probably over at the arena."

Yuri nodded and stepped inside without saying anything. The room was poorly lit with only a lamp on in the far corner away from the bed where Yuuri sat, propped up by a few pillows. Yuri walked over to the bedside and stood there for a minute, trying to decide what to say. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, there was nothing that would suffice.

"Yuri," Yuuri said, his eyes unfocused and downcast. Yuri, not Yurio not Yura, but Yuri. The lack of a diminutive made him flinch, he had really messed up.

"I'm an asshole," Yuri said, staring down at the barely lit carpet as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen. "I was upset and I had no right to say what I did."

"Yuri," Yuuri said again.

"Don't say anything please," Yuri practically pleaded, he wanted to apologize in full. "I am in the wrong here. I was so upset that I just wanted somebody else to hurt too, and you were the one who found me so I took it out on you. I was wrong."

Yuuri opened his mouth as if to speak but Yuri hushed him again.

"It wasn't true. You are worthy of Victor and you performed so well," he said. "I didn't even know he had beaten you when I said that," he added because he hadn't known the scores until later on. "I shouldn't have called you weak because you aren't. If anything, I'm the weak one here."

"Yuri," Yuuri's tone had subtly changed. "Sit," he tipped his head towards the bed.

Yuri took off his shoes and sat, he wasn't going to argue on that. "I'm sorry," he said, looking directly at Yuuri.

"Yuri, before I say anything, I want you to know that I forgive you," Yuuri said. His tone was subdued and Yuri could tell that he had expended a lot of energy. Yuri nodded but remained silent. "I also want you to know that this isn't entirely your fault."

"But I contributed," Yuri looked away again. "So it's partially my fault and I shouldn't have said it."

"I appreciate that you are owning up to it, but allow me to continue," there was no sense of the comfortable familiarity Yuri had grown used to in Yuuri's voice. "It was the end of the competition, emotions were running high. I had just watched my childhood idol now fiancé break my world record. I hadn't had a proper send off before my skate and then you self-destructed out there and disappeared. So naturally, my emotions were boiling over when I found you. Did you contribute to this, yes. Did you cause it, no. Did you cause a significant part of it, probably not."

"But if I hadn't said that then you might not have gotten so upset," Yuri said. "Victor said you wouldn't even sleep on the same bed as him."

"There are a thousand different ways this could have turned out, Yuri," still no diminutive. "It just so happened to go this way. It also didn't help that my medication had started wearing off by then. This wasn't caused by you and I don't blame you for what you did, but I would like to see you work on it so it doesn't happen in the future."

"Okay," Yuri nodded. "I can do that. I don't want to hurt people."

"I wasn't the only one whose emotions were running wild," Yuuri said. "Yours were too. You should have said something about it. Was it the press conference from the day before? Was it your nightmare? Did something happen?"

Of course Yuuri was turning this to his worry about him, he was a much better person than Yuri was. "I-I don't know," Yuri shrugged. "It felt like something was sitting at the back of my mind all day and then crawled into my chest and grabbed ahold of my heart and my lungs. I could hardly breath and my heart was beating so loudly I couldn't hear anything else."

"And that doesn't normally happen during competition?" Yuuri asked, his voice stronger and his eyes more focused, a sign that his medication was kicking in. He was still more subdued than usual though.

"It never has before," Yuri shook his head. "Whatever that was wasn't normal."

"Do you frequently have panic attacks?" Yuuri asked. "I know you've had a couple before but those all had an obvious trigger."

"I don't think so," Yuri said. "Beyond the ones you already know about, no. The pressure doesn't usually get to me. Not like that at least."

"I want you to have a meeting with the rink's sport psychologist," Yuuri said. "I know you go to the required ones but it wouldn't hurt to go again. I see her usually every other week."

"I suppose I can do that," Yuri nodded. It wasn't something he would have done of his own accord, but it probably was a good suggestion.

"I'm going to buy you a journal when we get back and I want you to use it," Yuuri told him. "It could be a diary of sorts or you could just write unit when you're feeling down, but either way I want you to start recording your feelings."

"Okay," Yuri agreed. "I can do that."

"You don't have to keep it to yourself when you're feeling down, especially when it's something you aren't used to feeling," Yuuri turned to look at him, it was then that Yuri realized he was wearing Victor's jacket. "You can talk to me or to Victor, though he isn't the best with this stuff he tries though," he touched the jacket fondly.

"I know I can," Yuri said quietly. "I don't want to be a burden though. Sometimes I think you would be best off getting rid of me, it's not like anybody actually wants me around."

"That's not true Yuri," Yuuri shook his head. "We all want you around and if you ever feel like we don't, talk to us about it."

"I know it's not true," Yuri muttered. "Just like you know that Victor loves you and doesn't think you aren't worthy. I know it's not true but I still worry that it is."

"I guess we're both two worrywarts," Yuuri made an attempt at a joke. "Must come with the name."

Yuri laughed softly. "There's one other thing I was wrong about," he said, not elaborating any further.

"And what was that?" Yuuri prompted.

"I said you weren't my father," if Yuri had been avoiding looking at him earlier he was doing so even more now. "But you kind of are," he admitted. "A father figure at least, both of you are."

Yuuri smiled at that. "That's very sweet of you," he said. "We've considered you family for a while now too."

"You're more of a father than my real one ever was," Yuri continued. "I'm not sure if you know this, but they kicked me out when I was six years old," he gave a short bitter laugh. "I was six, how fucking messed up is that? Who knows what would have happened had my dedushka not taken me in." He had no clue what prompted him to say so.

"I knew they kicked you out and sent you to live with your grandfather," Yuuri said. "But beyond that I know nothing."

"They dropped me off almost at midnight with only one bag of my belongings," Yuri told him. "I didn't even pack myself. They didn't even put any of my toys in it. I had practically nothing."

"Your grandfather is a good man though," Yuuri commented. "I'm glad you had a place to go and I'm glad that you're here now, Yura."

Yuri's eyes almost teared up at the use of the diminutive. "He is a good man, the best grandfather I could have ever asked for. But even he couldn't be my father," he hesitated. "He isn't you...or Victor. You two, more than anyone else, are my fathers."

Yuuri didn't say anything for a while and Yuri got nervous and finally managed to look at him, only to find that he was silently crying but smiling as well. "Coming from you that means a lot," Yuuri said.

"Don't you dare repeat it," Yuri grumbled, slightly embarrassed by his uncharacteristic show of emotion. "Not even to Victor."

"I won't," Yuuri promised. "It's your information to share. Will you allow me to hug you?"

Yuri hardly let him finish the question before wrapping his arms around him tightly. He hoped that he could express everything he couldn't say through this hug. His words were never his strong suit, but neither was this. He didn't have a better way to show it though.

"I hope you know that I would be proud to call you my son," Yuuri told him, allowing him to hold on for as long as he needed. And if Yuri's eyes teared up a little at that, well, neither of them said anything about it.

Yuri rubbed at his eyes once he finally pulled away—they itched is all. "Thank you for forgiving me, you didn't have to."

"It would have been pointless not to," Yuuri said, sensing that it was best to not mention what they had just spoken about. "I know you didn't mean it and you agreed to work on it and not do it again. There was no reason for me to be angry, especially since I wasn't in the first place."

Yuri nodded. "Are you feeling okay now?" He asked. "You were really out of it when I first came in."

"I'm okay," Yuuri assured him. "My meds have mostly kicked in and once I get up and have a proper meal, I should be fine for the rest of the day as long as I don't get into a bad situation."

"Okay, good," Yuri said. "Victor was worried this would be one of your bad days."

"I'm surprised that it's not," Yuuri said. "It's not a good day per se, but it isn't bad. Manageable is a good word."

"So Victor was planning on going to the arena," Yuri said. "You should probably text him if you're not going to join him, he gets clingy. Also, Beka said something about you eating dinner with the Leroy's tonight, is that still on your agenda?"

Yuuri nodded. "Mila is skating in the last group today so I don't have to get the rink until then if I want to watch her and the dinner is after that. I was planning on taking a nap before heading over."

"Probably a good idea, you look tired," Yuri pointed out.

"I didn't sleep very well," Yuuri responded, pulling Victor's jacket up toward his face. "Would you mind shutting the lamp off?"

"Yeah sure," Yuri worked his way off the bed. "I guess I'll just go back to my room then."

"I think it's best if neither of us are alone right now," Yuuri said. "You can watch something on the tv if you keep the volume down or you could nap as well if you want. You also seem tired."

Yuri knew better than to try arguing, it was a more than fair point. "I actually am kind of tired," he admitted. "But I think I'll just watch some tv for now."

"Okay then," Yuuri smiled faintly and held the remote out for him. "I have an alarm set but it should be fine as long as o don't sleep for more than three hours. If you end up leaving make sure to let me know."

"Okay," Yuri said quietly, climbing back to where he had been sitting before. Next to him Yuuri had curled up in Victor's jacket which was slightly too big on his narrower frame.

Most of the channels were in french but Yuri managed to find a sports channel broadcasting the final in English as well as a few other assorted channels he could understand. He settled on some animal show of sorts and nestled back into the pillows behind him. It didn't take long for his eyes to become droopy and after fighting it for a while, he finally succumbed to sleep, unconsciously rolling slightly towards the heat given off by Yuuri.

Neither of them woke up before the alarm and thus they were startled awake a few hours later by its incessant sounding. Yuri was very reluctant to move at first, the bed was comfortable and he was warm. Thankfully Yuuri was quick to silence the alarm so he didn't have to listen to it for long.

"Yura," Yuri's voice was soft and had the telltale tone of someone who had recently woken up to it. "It's time to get up, we have to join the others at the rink."

"Five more minutes," Yuri grumbled, he didn't want to move when he was so comfortable.

"I can't move unless you get up," Yuuri said. "Come on now."

Yuri slowly blinked his eyes open and realized that part of the reason he was so comfortable was because he was practically using Yuuri as a pillow. He sat up and moved away sheepishly. "Sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Yuuri seemed amused by it. "I take it you probably didn't sleep well yesterday either."

Yuri shrugged. "I don't even know when I went to bed, I spent too much time sobbing all over Beka. Do you know how uncool that makes me? Very."

Yuuri laughed. "Don't be so worried about that," he said, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. "He's a good friend, he wouldn't judge you for that."

"Yeah, I guess so," Yuri got up and pulled his shoes back on, grateful now for having his hair braided. It had stayed mostly intact during his nap.

Yuuri grabbed his room key from the nightstand which appeared to be a makeshift trophy stand what with both Yuuri and Victor's medals resting atop it. Yuri couldn't help but laugh at how out of place they looked in the room. "Alright, let's head out," Yuuri walked out of the room.

The walk to the arena was bright and sunny in sharp contrast to the bleak skies of the previous day. Of course there was still a cold bite to the air, but it certainly could have been worse.

Yuri was a bit anxious about the prospect of being questioned by stray reporters, so he kept his head down and his hoof up once they entered the rink. Though this wasn't the most effective method since he was wearing his temporary warmup jacket and Yuuri was still clad in Victor's jacket which easily drew the attention of everyone. How they managed to slip through the crowds and find Victor up in the bleachers was beyond both of them.

"Yuuri!" Victor practically beamed when his eyes fell on his fiancé. He was wearing one of his typical trench coats in lieu of his jacket since it looked as if Yuuri had no desire to part with it. "My love, you made it."

Yuri rolled his eyes at the two of them. One would think they had been separated for weeks rather than a few hours. Surprisingly it was Yuuri who practically flung himself at Victor and not the other way around, though Yuri suspected that was only because Victor was respecting Yuuri's space and wasn't sure if he'd want to be touched. "Saps," Yuri scoffed, though a slight laugh escaped his lips when Victor just about fell over from the force of Yuuri's embrace.

He took a seat and gazed down at the rink to figure out what was going on. It looked as if ice dancing was just finishing up which meant Mila would be performing soon enough. So far she had pulled a personal best in both her short and free skate and was expected to do well. Yuri hoped she would medal so that his lack of a medal would be less of a focus and also because he wanted to see her succeed, the other part was just a welcome bonus.

Off to his side, Victor and Yuuri had finally pulled apart and taken their seats though they were still very much engaged with each other. Yuri didn't think Victor had even noticed his presence in his excitement at seeing Yuuri. Victor had a hand splayed across Yuuri's back and the two were leaned so close their foreheads were almost touching. If it weren't for the fact they were so good for each other and Yuuri was still pretty anxious, Yuri might have thrown something at them.

Yuri fiddled around on his phone until it was time to watch Mila skate, he had to elbow Victor to get him and Yuuri to notice that the women had started. "Oh, Yurio!" Victor flashed his stupid heart shaped grin. "When did you get here?" Both Yuri and Yuuri rolled their eyes in response.

Mila was second after the short program, just fractions of a point behind a skater from China. She looked like a wood nymph in her costume and her hair was elegantly braided, clearly Georgi's doing. The piece she was skating to was a portion of a song by some French composer, Yuri figures that was fitting due to the final being in France.

He was almost as familiar with her music as he was his, something that tended to happen with the pieces his rink mates skate to. When he hears the song at almost every practice session, becoming familiar with it doesn't take long at all.

Mila was exceptional when it came to controlling her speed into a jump, something that she was often commended for at practice. It certainly showed in her performance.

Yuri loved watching his rink mates perform because he saw all the work they put in at practice but in actual competition it was different. The most notable difference was in Victor's skating, but it was pretty clear in everyone else's performances as well.

He cheered when Mila finished and all of them grinned upon hearing her score, she'd either take home silver or bronze depending on how the last skater performed. Two medals for Russia and three for the rink seemed enough to please Yakov.

Yuri grew antsy as the next skater took to the ice so he stood up and slipped out of the rink area. He didn't really intend upon going anywhere so he leaned up against the wall next to the doors he had walked out of.

A minute later Victor and Yuuri came out into the hallway as well. "I haven't eaten much today so we were going to get something from the snack bar," Yuuri explained. "Just something light to hold us over until dinner, you can come with if you'd like."

"Good idea," Yuri said. "I could use a snack."  
He also hadn't eaten anything yet that day and dinner wouldn't be for another two hours.

Since the competition was over for him, he didn't have any qualms about getting an unhealthy snack and a sugary drink. It certainly tasted much better than whatever healthy options the snack bar had to offer.

After eating, they decided to walk back to the hotel for a while before heading to dinner. Yuri was starting to be  hopeful that they would manage to slip out of the arena without being apprehended by reporters when a small shape came barreling towards them.

"Yuuurrriii!!!" The source seemed to be a small child and Yuri barely managed to sidestep them before Yuuri stepped in and allowed the kid to hug him.

"Félix," Yuuri smiled at the kid fondly before ruffling their hair. "I watched you compete the other day, good job."

The kid, Félix, puffed out their chest where a silver medal proudly sat. "You said that already. But you did good too, we have matching medals," they grinned up at Yuuri as if he personally had set the sun in the sky.

The kid seemed to be about twelve and was clearly the JGPF silver medalist. It took Yuri a second to figure out why they looked so familiar, but once he realized who's grin looked just like Félix's, it was easy. "It's a mini JJ," he said. There was no way this kid wasn't JJ's little brother.

Félix seemed to take notice of Yuri's presence at that comment. "Hello," he waved cheerily. "Félix Alain Leroy here. You're Yuri Plisetsky, you're my second favorite skater but don't tell Jean Jacques, he thinks he's second."

Yuri laughed at that, this kid was turning out to be rather likable. "Well it's nice to meet you Félix," he held out his hand and was met with an enthusiastic handshake. "Good job on winning that medal."

"You did good too," Félix insisted. "Even though you fell...a lot."

"His short program was pretty good though," Victor ruffled his hair. "Even managed to beat me."

"He's not going to let you forget that either, Vitya," Yuuri laughed. "Now Félix, is there something you were doing?"

"Maman wanted me to find Jean Jacques," Félix said. "Do you know where he is? I think he is with his boyfriend, but I don't know where. Maman said he was still at the rink."

"I think I recall seeing Otabek a few hours ago," Victor said. "I've been here most of the day so if they're where I last saw him I could help you look for him." Félix nodded so forcefully that Yuri thought he would hurt himself. "I'll take that as a yes then," Victor chuckled and started walking back in the direction they had originally come from.

Félix, much like JJ, seemed to be a natural talker and he babbled on as they walked all the way to the other side of the large building. Yuri supposed it would be annoying if the kid wasn't so genuinely excited about everything. He also supposed that the kid had to be a little annoying just on grounds of being related to JJ.

It just so happened that Victor was right, both JJ and Otabek were were he had last seen them. The two of them were sitting towards the top row of seats in the arena with a mostly empty popcorn bucket balanced between their legs. It was clear from their demeanor that they were a couple, but they weren't as obvious as Victor and Yuuri were about it. Which was kind of surprising given how JJ usually acted about those sorts of things.

"Hey Jean Jacques, Jean Jacques!" Félix piped up, waving his arms so that JJ would notice him.

It was Otabek who noticed him first and stood up to join them. "Hey little dude," he held out his fist and he and Félix bumped theirs together in a short series that could only be a secret handshake of sorts. "What brings you here?"

"Maman told me to find Jean Jacques," Félix said. 

"What does she need?" JJ joined them as well, looking slightly dismayed when Otabek pulled his hand away and moved to stand beside Yuri.

"She said you forgot to take your medicine and you got to because you know what happened last time you didn't," Félix told him. "She has it with her. She is watching ice dancing with Rosalie and Papa."

"You should make sure you take care of that soon," Yuuri commented. "I never do well without mine."

"Me neither," Victor added.

Yuri had a feeling they only said that because JJ looked kind of embarrassed about being told that in front of other people. He did seem to relax a bit at their comments though and Yuri was actually glad about that because he didn't like his sort of friends to be upset.

"I knew I had forgotten something this morning," JJ said, his typical smile coming back. "Thanks for reminding me bud."

"This is why I'm your favorite brother," Félix stated. 

"Last I checked you were my only brother," JJ teased.

"That doesn't count," Félix stated and then promptly turned on one foot and marched off, presumably back to his parents.

"I should go catch up with him," JJ said. "You coming nounours?"

"I'll meet up with you in a few minutes zhanym," Otabek replied before turning to Yuri.

"You're in love, aren't you?" Yuri asked. He had seen the look on Otabek face. "Oh my god, you're in love!" They were out of earshot of Victor and Yuuri.

Otabek's sudden blush was an answer in and of itself. "That doesn't matter," he brushed it aside. "How are you doing? Did everything go okay?"

"Yes, it was fine. He isn't upset with me," Yuri answered. "Now answer my question."

"I haven't told him yet," Otabek said. "He's been saying it for a while now, but I've never said it back."

"I'm not going to say this again so listen up," Yuri shot him a look almost resemblant of a glare. "You love him, he loves you. You make each other happy," he grimaced slightly. "You need to tell him."

"You're being awfully mature about this considering how you acted when you found out," Otabek said. "But you are right. I will tell him eventually."

"I want my friends to be happy," Yuri shrugged. "That's all, now go find your boy toy again. I'll see you at dinner." He turned and walked back over to Victor and Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to write all the way to a certain scene before I could post and it ended up being 13k so it took a while. Also I was really busy. I did enjoy writing this though and I hope you like the scenes in it. The split might be a little awkward but the next best place was almost 2k words later. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this. Please let me know what you liked about it. I really like to hear that and it gives me inspiration, something I've been lacking lately.


	22. Of Dinners and Banquets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks up exactly where the last chapter left off so it might be beneficial to go read the last few paragraphs of it if you don't remember what was going on.

 

This time they managed to make it to the hotel without incident, though they were stopped for a picture at one point, but since it was a fan and not a reporter, Yuri didn't mind.

He went back to Yuuri and Victor's room with them and played on his phone well the two of them had a playful argument regarding Victor's jacket. Yuri was quite amused at how it went down.

Victor wanted his jacket back but Yuuri refused to take it off so Victor stole Yuuri's jacket instead and proceeded to pout about it being a little too small for him. Then somehow they ended up in some sort of tickle fight before dissolving into laughter.

Yuri was only half paying attention to what they were doing, he was fairly certain they had at least half forgotten he was in the room with them but they both looked so happy he didn't say anything. Though he did file it away for future teasing material if necessary. Those two were just so over the top sometimes that he couldn't yell at them for it every single time.

Thankfully it wasn't long before they headed out to dinner, so he didn't have to watch their general mushiness for long. When the arrived at the restaurant it was clear that the hostess was a big ice skating fan because her eyes just about tripled in size upon seeing them and they had practically no wait despite being a party of nine.

Yuri soon realized the he was just about the only person at the table who couldn't read the menu. Obviously the Leroys were all fluent and french as was Victor. Otabek had JJ to help him out and Yuuri had Victor. So Yuri just sat there awkwardly and tried to figure out what they had based on the pictures.

After a while JJ's little sister, Rosalie, seemed to take pity on him. "What kind of food do you want?" She asked him. "It's pretty obvious you can't read the menu." Out of everyone at the table she was the closest to him in age.

Yuri's mind blanked when he tried to decide what to get. He would really have liked piroshki or borscht or katsudon, but this place wouldn't have any of those. "Something with pork in it I guess," he shrugged.

Rosalie flipped through the menu and rattled off a few items for him, displaying none of the difficulty with switching between languages that JJ did. "I'm sure they would've given you an English menu if you asked."

"I don't want to be marked as a foreigner, they don't like foreigners as much if they don't speak French and thanks for the translation," Yuri said.

"You're wearing a jacket that says Russia," Félix piped in.

"He's has a point there Yura," Yuuri laughed.

"You're wearing a jacket that says Russia too," Yuri pointed out. "And you're not Russian."

"Victor is wearing a Japan jacket, both the Yuris are wearing a Russia jacket, JJ is wearing his Canada jacket so is Félix," Rosalie said. "The hostess looked like she wanted to ask for autographs. I think they know we're foreign."

Everybody laughed at that and Yuri had to admit that she had a valid point. It was pretty hard to look at them and think they were French what with everything they were wearing.

Rosalie was nice and ordered for him and they all fell into conversation as they waited for their food. Yuri was seated in the middle of the table so he could hear what everyone was saying, thankfully they were all speaking in English.

The conservation seemed to mostly revolve around skating with Nathalie and Alain sharing tips for all of them and pointing out flaws. Victor made a few comments on that as well. Which made sense considering that four out of the six skaters had medaled. They all seemed to skirt around Yuri's free skate and only bring up his short program. He knew it would eventually get mentioned, but until then he was content to ignore it.

Yuri ended up tuning out for a minute and when he came back in they were discussing school. "Rosalie is dyslexic and JJ has ADHD amongst other things, so homeschooling them was a bit of a difficulty," Nathalie was explaining. "Now that JJ is at university, it's a bit easier. Rosalie does online school so she can work at her own pace and Félix goes to public school but we will probably switch him to online when his training regimen picks up."

"I'm sure Yakov would understand what that felt like," Victor said with a laugh. "He made me show him weekly progress reports in order to get on the ice."

"I worked hard in both," Yuuri said. "I was out of the house more frequently than in. I tooo an extra year to graduate college with competing. Yuri here is probably better about it than Victor was, you should hear him complain about history though."

"That's because he's a math genius," Otabek commented before Yuri had the chance to say anything.

"No I'm not," Yuri shook his head.

"If we as a table spent 113.67 euros on dinner, what would the average meal have cost?" Otabek clicked the numbers in on his phone.

"I'm not answering more than one of these. And it's 12.63 euros," Yuri huffed. "Can we move on now?"

Everybody eyed him with curiosity but they didn't say anything. "Félix, how about you tell everyone what you said you wanted to do when you grow up?" Alain asked his son.

"Oh," Félix momentarily looked embarrassed but quickly grinned. "I'm going to marry Yuuri Katsuki."

"What?" Victor put a hand over his heart in mock shock. "That's so cool. I'm going to marry Katsuki Yuuri when I grow up too."

"You can't do that because I'm gonna," Félix insisted.

"I'll just have to do it first then," Victor said.

"Fine," Félix sighed. "I'll go with plan B then."

"What's this plan B of yours?" JJ asked. "You've never mentioned it before."

"I'm going to be adopted by Yuuri Katsuki," Félix grinned as if it was his best idea yet. "Sorry maman and papa."

"I think you're going to have to fight Yuri for that little dude," Otabek told him.

"I knew him first though," Félix stuck his tongue out and Yuri and he couldn't help but laugh. This kid was pretty amusing.

Any reply was cut off by the arrival of their food. Yuri wasn't completely sure what he had ordered but it tasted good at least. The meat had a good flavor to it and it was rather fatty, a nice treat for after competition. He finished his meal rather quickly and then listened in on the conversations still going on.

"-the doctors said I was real brave for it," Félix had pretty much abandoned his plate and was in the process of tugging up his shirt sleeve and tapping at a circular scar on his arm. "They stuck a little thingy in there and I get to have the implant in my arm until I'm old enough to get testosterone," he enunciated every syllable in the last word as if he had only recently learned how to pronounce it. It took Yuri just a second to figure out that he was talking about puberty blockers.

"You're the bravest boy in the world," JJ smiled. "Of course the doctors said that."

"I'm gonna be as strong as Jean Jacques someday," Félix sounded very excited about that. "It's gonna be so cool." Yuri could tell that he relay looked up to his brother. "Did you know he does graphic design? He made my shirt!" Félix proudly showed off the geometric design on his shirt, it appeared to be a penguin and it had the words Félix Style in the middle of the design.

"Félix, stop bragging about your brother and eat your dinner," Nathalie shot a stern look at the kid who pouted slightly but turned back to his plate. "If anything JJ should be the one bragging."

The table fell mostly silent for a while as everybody else finished eating. They ended up talking for a lot longer and at one point Victor and Yuuri were engaged in deep conversation with Nathalie and Alain and JJ and Otabek were leaned close together talking in muted voices. Félix appeared to have fallen asleep with his arm as a pillow which left just Yuri and Rosalie.

"You like cats," Rosalie stated. "Want to see some pictures of mine?"

Yuri nodded eagerly, that was much better than anything else that was currently going on. "That sounds wonderful, I can show you pictures of mine as well."

Rosalie pulled up a bunch of pictures and started scrolling through them. "This is him as a kitten, this is him stuck in the blinds, this is his first time in a cardboard box, this is him upon realized we were at the vet," the list went on and Yuri cooed at every picture, they were all so perfect.

"Aww, what's his name?" He asked.

"Mister Fluffypants," Rosalie said. "I was eight."

"It suits him," Yuri pulled up pictures of his cat. "Her name is Empress and she has never done anything wrong ever. She is the definition of perfection." He then preceded to scroll through the many photos he had of her with an explanation for each one.

"I can see why JJ gave you the nickname chaton now," Rosalie laughed. "It's fitting. I'm almost surprised your theme wasn't 'For my Beautiful Cat.'"

"Yakov would never allow it," Yuri said. "Well, maybe for Victor, he can get away with anything. Had to go with humility."

"Maman and papa wanted us to do a sort of joint theme this year," Rosalie told him. "So I got honor, JJ got strength, and Félix got bravery. We're doing an exhibition skate with all three of us to songs from Mulan so that will be fun to actually perform tomorrow."

"That sounds pretty cool," Yuri said. "I'll make sure to watch."

They only stayed a few more minutes after that, just long enough to pay the bill and sign an autograph for the hostess. Yuri was glad that the restaurant was close to the hotel because they were all worn out and he was too tired to walk very far. Despite not having had any alcohol, Victor and Yuuri were leaned against each other in an attempt to not stumble too much. It was clear that both of them were exhausted.

They didn't say much beyond a terse parting when JJ and Otabek headed off in one direction and the rest of the Leroy family in another. Yuri was pulled into a half hug by both Victor and Yuuri at the same time before they tired to go to their room as well.

He spent less than a minute changing out of his clothes and into pajamas before collapsing face first onto the bed. He barely managed to get his phone plugged in before falling asleep.

Yuri didn't wake up until early afternoon the next day and when he did he ached all over. It seemed all the falling he had done in competition had finally caught up to him. He groaned and pulled the blanket up over his head again, blocking out all the light coming in around the curtain. Both the exhibition and the banquet were on the agenda for the day and he wouldn't be allowed to miss out on either.

The exhibition would be in only two hours so he figured he could get away with staying in bed until just before it would start. Since he wasn't performing there was no reason for him to go any earlier.

Instead, he spent about an hour slowly working himself through a series of stretches to loosen up the tension in his muscles. He had music playing quietly in the background as he did so. Each stretch was a little hell in and of itself, but he knew it was necessary to get back to normal as soon as possible. He was fairly certain there was more bruised skin on his legs than non-bruised skin and that really didn't help with the pain. He made sure to take a painkiller and go slow as he went about his activities.

If there was one thing he learned from being a professional athlete, it was how to effectively minimize recovery time on injuries. Not being able to do what he love most because of an injury was a terrible feeling. He knew it would take a couple days for the soreness to fade completely but he could deal with that. It was his fault for not properly cooling down after his skate anyway.

He was less stiff  after finishing his stretches but he knew it would be pretty painful to go up and down stairs for the next day or so. Thankfully training for nationals wouldn't start until a few days after arriving back in Russia though there would only really be about a week of practice for that. Nationals were really more of a formality than anything, he couldn't remember the last time it was even resemblant of a challenge for him. And with Victor in the running, everybody knew that it was really a competition for second place. Though of course Yuri intended to knock him down a podium.

After he finished stretching and changed into something comfortable he ate a snack from what was left of the treats he and Otabek had shared the other day. It wasn't exactly a healthy breakfast but it wasn't even breakfast time anymore so he didn't care.

Once he finished eating, he walked up to a mirror to fix his hair. The braid Otabek had put in the day prior was still mostly intact, so he just straightened it up a bit before making his way out of his room and heading off in the direction of the arena. He found Victor and Yuuri when he arrived me they waved him over to where they were getting ready.

"You look like you slept well," Victor commented. "That's good."

"Are your legs sore?" Yuuri asked at just about the same time.

"A little bit," Yuri nodded. "All the falling caught up to me, I've got some pretty nasty bruises too."

"If you remind me later, we have some of that cream for achy muscles with us," Yuuri said. "I always have some in my competition bag, you never know when you might fall and need it."

"Okay, thanks," Yuri said. Yuuri had lent it to him before and that stuff worked wonders, he wouldn't turn down that offer.

"We have to be heading off towards the staging area now," Victor said, standing up from the bench. It wasn't often that Yuri stood next to Victor when the older man was wearing skates and he wasn't. Victor normally had about a head on him when it came to height, but like this Yuri didn't even come up to his shoulders. He had to lean his head way back to talk to him.

It was in this position that Yuri could see in Victor what others did. The formidable, unbeatable champion that many of the other skaters saw. The elegant, charismatic, untouchable god that the fans saw. He even looked kind of intimidating. Yuri couldn't help but laugh at the thought. He knew that Victor was really just a forgetful overexcitable man. "Alright," Yuri nodded. "I'll be sitting with Otabek in the stands, don't mess up out there."

"We'll see you at the banquet Yura," Yuuri smiled at him. "Try to enjoy the show."

"Yeah, whatever," Yuri waved his hands and walked away. He texted Otabek to let him know where he would be sitting and then took those seats, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Hey soldier boy," Otabek said as he took a seat. "Don't you just look excited."

"It's so different from last year," Yuri shrugged. "The hype was all about me then. Now it's all Victor Nikiforov this, Victor Nikiforov that. The old man doesn't need more attention."

"You're the one who's said he doesn't even care about it," Otabek pointed out. "You just wish it was you out there."

"Don't we all though," Yuri said. "Victor only cares about the surprise factor, I actually have something to prove."

"You've already proven yourself time and time again," Otabek was serious. "The only person left to prove yourself to is yourself."  
  
"I don't know," Yuri shrugged. "But enough about that. Have you told him yet?"

"I'm not good with words," Otabek shook his head.

"Says the most philosophical guy I know," Yuri raised an eyebrow. "Come on."

"I don't know Yuri," it was Otabek turn to shrug.

"Beka, just tell your fucking boyfriend you're in love with him already you moron," Yuri rolled his eyes.

"But I don't know how," Otabek admitted.

"Ugh, you're not as bad as the geezer and Katsudon, but at least those two figured this shit out on their own," Yuri heaved a dramatic sigh. "Make him one of those playlists of yours or something. Yknow, fill it with songs that remind you of him or stupid sappy love songs and shit like that. If you can't just tell him like a normal person then do it your own way."

"That's not a bad idea," Otabek seemed to think about it. "I just might do that actually."

"Of course it's a good idea," Yuri said proudly. "I'm a smart person and your best friend."

"That you are Yuri," Otabek nodded. "That you are."

"You might have questionable taste in boyfriends, but your taste in best friends is impeccable," Yuri grinned at him.

"I don't know man, maybe it's the other way around," Otabek rolled his eyes. "You sure seem to have widely differing opinions about him."

"Well I guess he is a friend," Yuri shrugged. "And he makes you happy. But he's still my rival so none of that matters."

"You think everyone is your rival soldier boy," Otabek laughed. "Get over yourself."

"No thank you," Yuri said, turning his attention to the ice where the exhibition was starting.

The first few performances were all ice dancing and pairs skating so Yuri didn't really know who most of the skaters were. He had very limited knowledge beyond that of the men's skaters because he didn't need to knowtoo much about the other disciplines. He did at least recognize the faces though due to having competed in the same events as many of them before.

"God, they're so tiny," Yuri said when the junior ice dancers took to the ice.

"I can guarantee you half of them are the same height as you or taller," Otabek teased.

"Shut up Beka," Yuri muttered. "At least I have a reason for being short, you don't."

"I'm Asian," Otabek deadpanned. "You know, a continent in which people are stereotypically short."

"Yes and I'm Russian," Yuri mimicked his tone. "Would you like to come guzzle vodka with me and meet my pet bear."

"A non-feline animal?" Otabek feigned shock. "Who are you and what did you do with Yuri."

Yuri laughed and rolled his eyes before glancing back out on the ice to see what was happening. It was now the third place senior pair skaters on the ice, they were from China if he remembered correctly. Their routine was interesting to watch and he enjoyed it. The next routine was JJ and his siblings.

"He's sent me videos of them practicing this," Otabek sounded excited. "It's really cute."

Yuri hated to agree but it actually was a cute little routine. Quite funny too. All three of them seemed to take on a role and each time the music changed a little bit they would change it around. It was very well choreographed and it was obvious that the three siblings were having immense fun.

At the end of the routine it appeared that JJ was the one playing the villain and his younger siblings were the ones about to save the day. It culminated with the younger two skating increasingly faster and closer to JJ until he attempted a jump that was intentionally flubbed. He hit this ice with a dramatic flourish that could only have been planned ahead of time. Once the music ended JJ first picked up Rosalie and spun her in a circle and then did the same with Félix.

Phichit Chulanont came on as they were leaving and it was hard to tell when the cheers stopped for the Leroys and started for him. He was wearing perhaps the most eclectic outfit Yuri had ever seen, and he himself had worn some pretty strange things before. Phichit was wearing what he assumed was traditional Thai clothing much like what his costumes were styled after for both of his programs, but instead of being in the colors Yuri would expect, it appeared to be space themed and to top it all off he was fairly certain Phichit was wearing a guinea pig hat.

"What even is that?" Yuri stared at it as best he could. "Why is he wearing a guinea pig hat?"

"It's a hamster," Otabek said. "And you are absolutely not allowed to judge anybody for their gala costumes. We all know what you skated to last season."

"I'm just going to ignore that," Yuri stuck his tongue out.

"You know I'm right," Otabek elbowed him playfully.

"Is somebody speaking," Yuri looked around. "I thought I heard some bullshit."

Otabek snorted but didn't reply. They both turned their attention back to Phichit. The program was set to a really upbeat song that most of the crowd was either clapping or singing along to. There was only one or two jumps included but overall it was mostly just an expressive fun piece. Yuri could see why the skater was a fan favorite this season, he had a unique presence on the ice.

As Phichit left the ice Yuuri took to the ice. He was also skating to a really upbeat song that didn't seem to go well with his personality to somebody who didn't know him. It was more of a display of his dance skills than his skating skills and it would have been easy to forget that he was actually on the ice if it weren't for his skates and the slight glare given off from the spotlights on the less scratched up patches of ice left.

After Yuuri finished there were a few more pair skaters and ice dancers who performed, followed by the juniors gold medalists and the seniors gold medalists. Victor, of course, was last. He had chosen to skate Yuuri's free skate from the year prior for his exhibition and had had a similar costume made. He had said it was just the final piece in his love letter to Yuuri. Yuri had called him a sap for that.

The audience was so loud during Victor's performance that Yuri almost had to cover his ears to block them out. Practically everybody was on their feet by the end and Yuri couldn't tell for sure but he was almost certain that Victor had teared up a little bit. It was obvious that Yuuri had by the way he tackled his fiancé into a hug that almost knocked them both over when everyone who had performed returned to the ice.

"Promise you won't ever be like," Yuri grumbled under his breath. "We do not need another skating couple like those two."

"I won't, Jean and I could be as bad as them if we tried," Otabek said. "They're a good example of a positive healthy relationship, it's good for people to see that."

"You've never heard Victor lamenting about love," Yuri said. "He's almost as bad as Georgi."

"JJ does that too," Otabek said. "I'm sure you've heard a bit of it."

Yuri nodded. He certainly had gotten texts from JJ going on and on about the guy in his class. They weren't as sappy as Victor was though.

Once the exhibition was officially over, Yuri made his way back to the hotel to get ready for the banquet which was scheduled to start only an hour later. He took the braid out of his hair and laughed at how curly it had gotten from him having slept on it two nights. It wasn't a bad look on him he decided, but it was way too messy for the banquet so he hopped in the shower.

Thankfully the little bottles of shampoo and conditioner had been replaced so he had enough to properly wash his hair out. He once again regretted not bringing his own or asking to borrow Victor's soap. The hotel soap left his skin pink and stinging but he used it since it was all there was. Washing his legs off was a bit of an adventure what with how sore they were and the amount of bruises littered all over them.

It ended up taking him a bit over half an hour to finish cleaning up. "Fuck," he whispered as he changed into the bottom portion of his suit.

Yuri couldn't put his binder on until his chest was completely dry and he didn't know if it would dry off by the time he needed to head outside. Even after aggressively toweling off his skin was still a bit damp, so he took to dancing around the room in an attempt to both pass time and use the air to speed the process up.

After what felt like forever he finally deemed himself dry enough to pull his binder on, a process complicated by his still fairly wet hair. Once it was on though, he grinned. It matched his skin so closely he almost couldn't tell he was wearing it and that was a great feeling. With the rest of the suit on on top of it, his chest appeared completely flat.

He had just enough time left to blow dry and brush his hair before joining Victor and Yuuri to head to the banquet together. They met him at the elevator with their hands linked. Yuuri was wearing that blue tie of his that Victor kept trying to get rid of.

"You two had better not make a scene," Yuri stars at their hands and then looked both of them in the eye. "I at least have to make a good impression tonight, so you better not ruin that."

"You'll make a good impression regardless Yura," Yuuri smiled at him. "You look so handsome in your suit."

"Isn't our son just the handsomest." Victor agreed with a nod, a slight teasing tone to his voice.

"I am not your son," Yuri rolled his eyes, matching the tone of Victor's voice. "You would be a terrible parent."

"Yuuri, my love, our son is bullying me," Victor fake cried as they stepped into the elevator.

Yuuri embraced the dramatic man. "There there, Vitya," he patted him on the back. "Apologize to your father young man."

"What's got you two so cheerful today?" Yuri rolled his eyes.

"Yuuri is happy," Victor grinned. "I can't not be happy when the love of my life is."

"Remind me to stay away from you at the banquet," Yuri said. "I have people to impress."

Yuri made a point to peel away from the other two once they arrived at the banquet, it wasn't very hard because they were quickly accosted by a group of middle aged women and pulled into conversation. He could pretty identify which people were skates, which were guests, and which were sponsors. Despite doing so portly in competition he still needed to make a good impression on anyone who might be inclined to give him money, and that meant he had to mingle.

The first person he found himself in conversation with was a kindly old lady who had been a champion ice dancer back in her day. She still had a grace about her that suggests of the great beauty she must have had in her youth. She snagged two flutes off a tray and offered him one. "Don't worry dear, it's grape juice. The alcohol is at the tables over there," she said with a warm smile.

Yuri returned the smile and took a sip of the juice. "Thank you and might I say, you look lovely tonight," he cranked up the charm as high as it could go.

"And you're quite the dashing young man yourself," she sounded like an overly doting grandmother, but he really didn't mind that. "I was very impressed with your short program. You would do wonderfully in ice dancing."

"Thank you," Yuri smiled again. "But I don't think I could ever manage those lifts and I rather enjoy my place in men's singles."

"Rightfully so," she chuckled. "Wouldn't want to change disciplines halfway though a season or the season before the Olympics."

"Definitely not," he agreed. "That would be ignoring all my years of training."

"Aren't you just darling?" She smiled at him again. "I brought my son and his daughter to watch you. Your attitude is very similar to hers, you're a very resilient young man. I hope to see great things from you."

"Thank you," Yuri said once again.

"I won't be holding you up any longer, it was a pleasure speaking to you," she walked off to find somebody else to talk to.

Yuri felt as if he had done a good job in making an impression. She wasn't a big name sponsor like what he really needed, but anything would help and he really enjoyed the sponsors like her. 

He chatted with a few other skaters and potential sponsors for a while before he needed a break and went to hide behind Victor and Yuuri. They were talking to a man of middle eastern descent who seemed to already know Yuuri.  He decided against going over to them and instead found an empty table to sit at for a few minutes. Before taking a seat he grabbed a small plate of food from the table they had set out with it. He smacked on that peacefully for a while and scrolled through his phone as a means of showing that he currently did not want to be approached.

Yuri took about ten minutes to himself before joining the the crowd again. He got caught up in conversation with some of the junior skaters about how hard it was to make a senior debut because they would all be debuting the next season most likely. He gave them some advice about practice and they all took in every word as if he was the authority on the subject. Though he supposed he kind of was considering how successful of a debit he had had the season prior.

After that conversation he mingled with a few more sponsors and even danced with a few of them. Near the end of a song somebody tapped the shoulder of his dance partner and asked to cut in. He recognized the face but couldn't recall a name.

"Sorry for stepping in like that, we spoke the other day. I'm Daya. Daya Salem," Daya told him.

"Right," Yuri smiled. "I remember you."

"I'm here with my father, he's making his rounds right now," she said. "He'll get to you eventually. I'm supposed to be talking with the juniors but you looked like you could use a break. And telling my brother I got to dance with Yuri Plisetsky, ultimate bragging material."

Yuri was still mostly in charm mode so he didn't know how to respond right away. "If you really want to brag try and get a dance with Victor if you can pry him away from Yuuri," he laughed softly. "Or Yuuri. Both excellent dance partners."

"But I can't do this to them," she said, using her few inches of height on him to twirl him.

"Hey," he protested weakly. "I am an internationally ranked figure skater, not a ballroom dancer."

"Well of course," she stated. "Your short program was a work of art. Pity about your free skate, I'd like to see you skate that clean."

"It'll be better by Worlds," he said. "It has to be."

"You certainly are determined," she commented. "I'd like to see you podium."

Yuri nodded in agreement. He needed to up his game for the rest of the season for multiple reasons. "I will." The song ended at that.

"Well I've got some junior ice dancers to talk to," Daya said as they stepped apart. "It was nice talking to you."

"You too," Yuri waved as he walked away. He glanced around and saw that Victor and Yuuri weren't currently talking to anybody so he made a beeline in that direction.

"Hey Yurio," Victor grinned at him. "You must be making quite the impression. We've heard a lot of little old ladies fawning over you."

"There have been many," Yuuri nodded, taking a sip from the glass he was holding.

"That better be grape juice," Yuri eyed the glass suspiciously. "No pole dancing. Keep your clothes on."

"I have no reason to get drunk tonight, don't worry," Yuuri ruffled his hair. "Though I'm sure Chris will be disappointed about the pole dancing."

"And I'm disappointed about the clothes," Victor said under his breath Yuri opted to ignore that for his own sake.

"So you decided to stop avoiding us then," Yuuri teased. "Are we not so bad anymore?"

"I can only have the same conversation so many times," Yuri said. "They might all love me but I can't keep smiling at those people without a break. Though the juniors think I'm some sort of god, I wonder what they think of Victor because obviously they don't know enough to know he's really just an idiot."

"I think some of them are afraid of me," Victor said. "I told one girl I liked her dress and she started crying."

"Don't make children cry, that's why you would make a terrible father," Yuri joked, bringing up their earlier conversation. "Though I'd say Félix and that Japanese kid consider Yuuri more of a god than you."

"No, no, no," Yuuri shook his head. "I'm nothing to look up to."

"Shut up," both Yuri and Victor said in unison.

"Don't degrade yourself darling," Victor said. "Let the children look up to you, inspire them."

It looked as if the two of them were about to get extra sappy so Yuri backed out of there and went back to mingling. There were very few people he hadn't yet spoken to, so he stayed over by the skaters and talked to them for the most part, occasionally getting pulled into a conversation by another sponsor. Somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, Phichit, JJ, and Christophe were holding a—fairly tame—dance off. Yuri expected it wouldn't be too long before Victor and Yuuri joined in and he intended to stay out of it this time.

Luckily for him, right before he could be dragged onto the dance floor, the same man who he had seen talking to Yuuri and Victor earlier pulled him into conversation. "Mr. Plisetsky may I have a word with you," everything about the man screamed professionalism.

"Yes sir," Yuri nodded, stiffening ever so slightly. "You may call me Yuri."

"I am Adil Salem," the man shook his hand. So this was Daya's father, Yuri could see the resemblance. "You may call me Adil, it's nice to meet you Yuri."

"It's nice to meet you too sir, Adil," Yuri said.

"I don't see the point in dancing around the issue, so I'll get directly to it," Adil said. "I'm a financial manager for Diversity magazine and sports line partnered with Liberty bank in Chicago and I'm here to offer you a full sponsorship."

Yuri's eyes widened at that and he was speechless for a minute. "Have you talked to Yakov. He's my coach," he managed to squeak out.

"I have already discussed the terms of this with your coach and choreographer as well as the two you live with, they all agree that it is your choice on whether or not to accept the offer," Adil told him.

Yuri took a few deep breaths before attempting to speak again. He was practically buzzing with excitement but he wouldn't let that show. "What are the terms?" He asked.

"Normally I would have set up a more formal meeting for this but I don't feel that is necessary, let's take a seat," Adil led them to a nearby table and sat down. "As you probably guessed by the name of the company, Diversity is all about promoting just that. Our company prerogative is to show the diversity of athletes and inspire those who may not believe they are capable of doing the same."

Yuri nodded. That did suit the title very well. "Okay."

"We work to showcase those who are outside of what is considered the norm," Adil continued. "That includes plus sized athletes, blind athletes, deaf athlete, and paralympians to name a few. We also seek to bring attention to athletes of minority's races and religions. Our goal is show that there is not one path to success and the best way to do that is by showing the talents of people who are often skimmed over. That includes transgender athletes such as yourself."

Yuri had a moment of slight panic and glanced around. "I have yet to release a statement confirming or denying that," he said to the table. "Please do not make assumptions."

"Sorry," Adil apologized. "It was not my intention to upset you. I am not one to make assumptions, the only reason I say that is because I have it from a very reliable source and it was confirmed to me when I explained the conditions to your coach. I even signed a privacy statement saying I am not allowed to disclose this information."

Yuri slowly looked up from the table. "Okay," he muttered.

Adil seemed to sense that it was best to not then list the conditions. "My son is transgender," he said. "Only came out to me very recently. My wife and oldest daughter have always been avid skating fans and my son got sucked into it too at the beginning of this season. They're the ones who suggested you as a full time partner. Diversity has done some work with figure skating in the past, mostly with Katsuki and a women's singles skater with a rare genetic disorder."

Yuri nodded. "What are the conditions?" He asked, he was ready to hear them now.

"As a partner with Diversity we require you to be an advocate," Adil told him. "You have to be accepting of diversity in all forms and volunteer with some sort of minority group. We would also require you to be open about your gender identity and be a positive role model for other transgender youth. Of course we do understand that you may not be comfortable jumping directly into this role so you will be given the time necessary to grow more confident in doing so."

"I do a bit of volunteering during the offseason  already, so that will be easy," Yuri said. "The opening up part will be difficult for me though. How long do I have to make my decision?"

"We will hold it for you until after the World championship and then we will need to know for certain," Adil told him. "All of the legal aspects will be worked out with your coach and guardian."

"And I'm guessing this is just like any other sponsorship," Yuri said. "I'll wear your brand and take part in advertisements and you'll pay my competition and travel fees?"

"You are correct. But there is one more thing," Adil paused for a second. "If you so desire, we will also cover the cost of any hormone treatment or surgery you may choose to have."

Yuri's eyes widened even further at that. "That is an incredibly kind offer sir," he said. "I'm going to need to think on this."

"Here's my business card," Adil handed him a small piece of paper. "Give me a call once you make up your mind."

Yuri nodded mutely and stared down at the paper for a while after Adil had walked off. The offer seemed too good to be true and he would have to do a lot of thinking on it.

He was so shocked that when Yuuri came over and pulled him into the middle of the dance off he didn't resist in the slightest.

It was too much to think about until he got home to his cat and to Russia, so Yuri stuffed the business card into his suit pocket and he danced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be updating this once a week now, I'll try and keep it to Sunday's but you might get the next chapter early this week depending on how quickly I can write the one after it. 
> 
> I was glad to hear from a lot of you on the last chapter. I'm happy that most people enjoyed Félix because he is literally the cutest thing and was fun to write. This won't go into a lot of detail about the skating at nationals and Europeans by the way. 
> 
> As always, I thrive off of feedback and reviews. Please let me know what you're thinking, what you like, and so on


	23. Of Bad Days and Undesirable Audience Members

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be updating once a week on Sundays. For narrative purposes Russian nationals is hosted in Moscow

It was almost surprising how little he thought about the offer—or The Offer as he had deemed it in his head—over the next few weeks. They had flown back to Russia the day after the banquet and had exactly one day off of practice. Yuri had spent that day at home cuddled up with his cat—a glorious reunion indeed.

After that one day off it was a week and a half of hard training before heading off to Moscow for nationals. That first week of practice was particularly stressful all around because while everybody had know all along that Japanese and Russian nationals occurred simultaneously, it was then that it really sunk in.

Yuuri had to leave to Japan a few days before everybody else would head to Moscow so he would be accustomed to the time difference, Lilia was the one who ended up traveling with him.  Which left Yuri stuck alone with Victor who was handling it in a rather strange way.

Yuri knew that both competitions fell over Christmas weekend which meant that the two would be separated both for Christmas Eve, which was a big deal for Yuuri, and for Victor's birthday. This was certainly not the longest they had been separated before, but it was the first time over a significant event and Yuri didn't know what was up with Victor.

Everybody at the rink was perplexed by his sudden change in behavior, so much so that they had hosted more than one worried discussion about him when he wasn't listening. Even Yakov had joined in.

"Break for lunch!" Yakov shouted once again, Victor was the only one remaining on the ice and he wasn't listening.

"It's like he's twenty all over again," Georgi commented. Yakov nodded in agreement.

"What do you mean?" Mila asked. Neither she nor Yuri had really started under Yakov at that point so they hadn't known Victor when he was younger.

"When I came back for the season that year he was like a completely different person," Georgi said. "The first day back for all of us he was late, but nobody found it unusual. We went about warm ups and talked about programs and what we had been up to. Usually Victor would be right there with everyone with a story about his poodle or some crazy fan, but he wasn't there. When we were on lunch break someone came in wearing an oversized hoodie and a beanie, they pulled on a pair of skates and stepped onto the ice. Skated to the middle of the rink and just stood there for the longest time," he paused for a minute. "We all tried talking to them but they didn't act as if they even heard. Most of us were done with on ice training for the day so we left them alone. Probably an hour later they got off the ice and took off the skates and the beanie. It was Victor and he had short hair and he was crying, that's one of the only times I've ever seen him cry."

  
"What had happened?" Yuri asked.

"I don't know,"Georgi shrugged. "I think Yakov does but he won't say."

"It's not my information to share," Yakov said. He was always like that, he was a very safe person to tell things to. "But he's right, Vitya changed that year. You know how he was when you first met him and how he was after meeting Yuuri, I never thought I'd see him that happy again."

"I kind thought he was always like that," Mila said. "The strangest combination of serious and dramatic I've ever met."

"You know that part never really changed," Georgi laughed. "He's still serious and dramatic in a different way though."

"Tell me about it," Yuri rolled his eyes. "You don't live with him."

"Vitya doesn't like to talk about his childhood, much like you Yuri," Yakov said, a hint of affection clear in his voice. "You two have a lot more in common than you think."

"You don't see me draping myself all over somebody like an idiot," Yuri scoffed.

"Let the man be in love," Georgi said.

"If he weren't dramatic about that he wouldn't be Victor," Mila laughed.

"That man is a godsend," Yakov said. "And if he weren't going to be back in a week as it is, I would go to Japan and drag him back to Russia myself."

"He can handle being apart from Katsudon," Yuri said. "You guys know he's only like this because they won't get to spend Christmas Eve and his birthday together, right?"

"Maybe you should go cheer him up then," Mila suggested.

"You are around him the most," Georgi agreed.

"If you can get that idiot off the ice and make him eat something, I'll give both of you the rest of the day off," Yakov said. "He's going to hurt himself at this rate."

Yuri leaped at the opportunity to end practice early. The first half had already been very intensive and an early day sounded blissful. "Oi, geezer, get over here!" He shouted from behind the barrier. Victor continued practicing

It seemed as if that method wasn't going to be very effective, so Yuri pulled his phone out and sent off a quick text before setting it down again. He pulled his skates back on and stepped out onto the ice.

Victor was intent on himself that he didn't notice Yuri's presence. Yuri used this to his advantage and waited until Victor was in just the right position before skating directly into him. Not hard enough to hurt either of them, but just hard enough to draw his attention.

"Oh Yuri," Victor smiled. It was an empty smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Was I in your way?"

"Lunch started twenty minutes ago," Yuri crossed his arms. "You need to eat."

"No," Victor shook his head. "I think I'll run through my program again instead. There's a bit I'm not conveying right and I need to fix that."

"Listen to me you pretentious fuck," Yuri reached out and grabbed Victor's arm. "You are getting off of the ice."

Victor was phased enough by Yuri's sudden movement that he didn't object to being dragged off the ice and pushed onto the nearest bench. Once it seemed he realized what was going on and began to unlace his skates, Yuri walked back over to the others and snatched up the spare sandwich.

"Here," Yuri tossed the sandwich onto Victor's lap. "Eat this mustard covered monstrosity and then we're going home."

Victor stared down at the sandwich as if he wasn't sure what to do with it for a minute before awkwardly unwrapping it and taking a bite. "It's ham," he said after swallowing. "Georgi made it then."

"Very observant," Yuri plopped down on the bench beside him and began unlacing his skates. "It's Tuesday, Georgi always brings lunch on Tuesdays."

Victor didn't say anything as he finished the meal, he just sat there and ate it instead of making lighthearted banter as he usually would. He was acting a whole lot more like he did when Yuri first met him.

That had been a strange meeting all around. There was something about meeting Victor Nikiforov for the first time that made a lot of other things seem insignificant. There was something entirely else about having that first meeting after watching the man skid halfway across the ice after botching a jump—Yuri always thought that had been intentional on Victor's part, nobody slides that far when falling normally. And on Yuri's half, he had been a small angry child who barely spoke to anyone, he wasn't exactly one for making good first impressions. It was a day Yuri remembered well.

\--  
" _He will be in good hands here, don't you worry Mr. Plisetsky. Your grandson is under the best coach Russia has to offer."_

_Yuri was sat on a bench, swinging his short legs back and forth. He had already heard everything about the switch at least three times and was very impatient. He was eleven years old and already knew what Yakov was like after having gone to his training camp three years in a row._

_"You're the new kid," a skater walked up to him. "Coach sent me to find you, come along."_

_Yuri stood up and shared a terse goodbye with his grandfather—he had already said goodbye for real out in the car—and followed the red headed girl out towards the rink and assumedly towards Yakov._

_"Coach hasn't taken on a novice full time in a while," the girl chattered on. "You must be good."_

_"I'm training here, aren't I?" Yuri wasn't interested in small talk._

_"I'm Mila Babicheva, I won bronze at junior worlds last season," she continued talking._

_Thankfully Yuri was saved from responding by Yakov's appearance. "Go join the others in their stretching Mila," he ordered before turning his attention to the small unsmiling boy in front of him. "I'm sure you know why you're here."_

_Yuri nodded but said nothing._

_"I've heard and seen good things from you, I expect under my tutelage those will grow to great things," Yakov said. "You have potential but if you don't work hard you won't become anything, do you understand?"_

_Yuri nodded again._

_"I do not need nor do I want another Victor Nikiforov," Yakov told him. "I want a Yuri Plisetsky, you have your own merit use that and you'll go far, prove to me you're worth the effort."_

_"Yes coach," Yuri said. He wasn't sure what to think of the gruff man._

_"Good kid," Yakov offered him a rare smile. "Now go meet the others."_

_The others were an eclectic group of skaters all of whom were at least three years older than him. They all made sure to make him feel welcome and told him their skating accomplishments. There was one notable absence in Victor Nikiforov._

_It was apparent why a minute later when he was walked over towards the ice with a "shh, watch," from the other skaters._

_Victor was on the ice in the middle of a program, one that was clearly in the workings but excellent nonetheless. His skating changed slightly and Yuri could've sworn it was because he knew everyone was staring. He went to go for a quad lutz and Yuri knew he wouldn't land it, the way he was holding his arms and legs was all wrong. And then he fell and skidded all the way to the center of the rink. Yuri's new rink mates winced but the man on the ice seemed unfazed._

_The next thing he knew, found himself face to face with him. "A new kid?" Victor asked to nobody. Everyone else had wandered off._

_"Yuri Plisetsky," Yuri said._

_"Ah," Victor tapped his head. "I forgot you were coming." He offered up a smile. Yuri could tell it wasn't real, he smiled like that too._

_"You won't forget me again," Yuri stated. "I'll break every record you ever set." He walked away, somewhat angry now._

_Victor Nikiforov wasn't allowed to be sad, he had everything in the world laid out in front of him. He couldn't be sad because that meant that Yuri could be sad when he was where Victor was. Yuri was tired of being sad._

_He grit his teeth and kicked the ground below him. Yuri Plisetsky wasn't going to be sad anymore, he would be angry instead._  
\--

Yuri remembered that day well, he remembered the sad smile and the empty laugh that followed Victor wherever he went. It followed him too but nobody ever looked close enough to see—nobody looked close enough to see it in Victor either.

He resented that, he hated that somebody who was so successful and had everything he wanted in life was in the exact same position as him. It wasn't right for this person to be like that too.

"Isn't it too early to go home?" Victor's voice shook him from his thoughts.

"You were being an idiot out there so we are leaving early," Yuri said. "Let's head out."

"I really need to practice more," Victor shook his head. "You go ahead without me, I'll be back around dinner."

"Yakov says you aren't allowed back on the ice," Yuri sighed. "We are going home now, you have to come with me," he held up Victor's phone that he had managed to snag while he was eating. "You don't get this back otherwise."

"Alright," Victor hopped up and switched into what Yuri called paparazzi mode—a combination of loud and friendly with cool and approachable. "Time to go I guess."

Victor barely grabbed up all of his things score tossing his skates over his shoulder and heading out of the rink. Normally he would at least say goodbye to everyone and oftentimes he would comment on something he had seen from them during practice, but today it seemed as if the only thing he cared about was walking out the door. Which was strange considering how just moments prior he had been insisting upon staying.

Yuri had to walk twice as fast as usual to keep up with Victor, it almost seemed as if he had forgotten he was there. And when they got back to the house Yuri had to grab the door before it could slam shut on him. Victor tossed his bag in the corner—it didn't go there—and opened up the blinds to let in light before turning on a seldom used radio that typically they hooked up to their phones. It filled the house with terrible loud music, something that none of them listened to.

He didn't know how to respond so he went into his room and tucked his bag into its spot before lying down on his bed and putting headphones in to block out the awful music. He checked his phone and then tossed it to the side when there were no messages on it.

After a while the music still wasn't getting any quieter and Yuri's headphones were no help at all so he headed back out of his room to see what was going on. He found Victor standing in the middle of the living room with an empty smile on his face and a bottle of cleaner in hand, he was spraying down the coffee table. It was clear from looking around the room that most of it had been cleaned in some way, the blinds were dust free, the shelf of movies had been sorted. The house normally wasn't cleaned very well during the off season, usually only the kitchen and bathrooms were regularly cleaned and everything else tidied up twice a month, so this wasn't typical behavior.

It was then that Yuri realized what was going on, he knew what a Yuuri bad day looked like, he knew what his own bad days looked like, but this was a Victor bad day. With Yuuri it was quiet and darkness and silent support, with himself it was cuddles and reassurance, but he had no clue what to do to help Victor. He had never been privy to this before. A Victor bad day wasn't as apparent as his or Yuuri's, it manifested itself loudly and cheerfully. It was an in the face kind of deal that couldn't be ignored but could easily be mistaken.

"That table is practically shining," Yuri said. "How about you put that away."

Victor turned toward him with a far away look in his eyes. "Getting the spring cleaning done, don't want bad energy."

"It's December," Yuri managed to pry the cleaner from Victor's hands. "This room is clean, no bad energy here. You didn't shower after practice like normal, why don't you go do that," he suggested.

Thankfully Victor seemed to think that was a good idea and went off to his room. Yuri put all of the cleaning supplies that had been pulled out away and close all but one of the blinds. He turned off the radio to silence the earbleedingly awful sounds coming out of it and unplugged it for good measure.

After taking care of all of that, Yuri made sure there was food in both the dog and the cat bowl. He didn't really know what to do to help Victor out but he figured that making sure everything was taken care of was a start.

There were only a few things he could think to do and he wasn't actually sure if that would be of any help. Victor stayed in the shower for over an hour, which gave Yuri enough time to try and figure out what to do.

When Victor came back out into the living room his hair was lying limp on his h ad showing that he had barely even dried it, from the length of the sweatpants he had on, it was clear that Victor was wearing Yuuri's clothes. If Yuri hadn't known him for so long he wouldn't have been able to tell that he was upset.

Victor walked over towards the one window that still had the blinds open and stood there. He didn't say anything, he just stared outside not blinking nearly enough. After ten minutes of that Yuri couldn't stand it anymore. "At least sit down," he sighed, walking over towards Victor and pushing him to the couch. "Stop doing this, it's freaking me out."

Yuri went into the laundry room and pulled the fluffy blanket out of the dryer. "Here," he dropped it onto Victor's lap. "You said that you liked having a warm blanket when you're upset." Victor didn't say anything but he drew the blanket close to his chest.

Yuri glanced at the time and then went and grabbed Victor's laptop from where it was usually stored. It only took him a couple tries to get the password right and he navigates to what he wanted quickly. He walked back into the living room and set the computer down on Victor's lap and hit the call button. About a minute later he had both Victor and Yuuri looking at him in confusion.

"Both of you are being stubborn idiots and not contacting each other properly because you don't want to disturb anyone's practice," Yuri sighed. "Victor is having a bad day and I don't know how to help so I gave him a warm blanket and Skype called you," he said to onscreen Yuuri. "Everybody knows that you're missing two important days with each other, please for fucks sake talk for a while. Oh and by the way, your dogs name is not a strong password."

Yuri left the room after that, he figured Yuuri would be going to bed in about an hour and that those two could talk until then. He thought about taking the dog for a walk but decided that the sidewalks were too icy for that—there was a big difference between the rink and the sidewalk when it came to ice—so he ended up taking Makkachin out into the little side yard and tossing a ball for him.

He threw the ball until his fingers started to go numb from the clod air and then he went back inside, bringing the dog with him. It had only been half an hour but Victor was already off of his computer and was sitting with his head in his hands. Yuri couldn't tell if he was any better than before so he went up to him and poked his shoulder. "Are you okay?" He asked.

Victor was crying when he looked up. Yuri had never seen him cry before. Sure he had seen him tear up over something especially cute or laugh so hard a few teardrops would escape his eyes, but he had never seen Victor Nikiforov cry. When Yuri cried, he did so with his entire body: he was loud, his shoulders shook, he gasped for air, tears flowed fast and hot out of the corners of his eyes. Victor's crying was silent, he sat motionless, tears dripping off the tips of his eyelashes. Even the way Victor cried could be described as artful.

"Did something happen I don't know about? Did you two fight?" Yuri asked out of concern. They were driving to Moscow the next day, this needed to be sorted out by then.

Victor stopped crying after ten minutes, he didn't speak until then. "We had a good talk," his voice was hollow. "He went to bed."

"I thought you would be happy to talk to him," Yuri said. "But you're still upset and I don't know how to help you."

"I don't need help," Victor shook his head.

"But you do," the words came out harsher than Yuri intended them to. "You've always needed help ever since I met you. You're acting like you did when we first met. I should know better than anyone, I hated you for it."

"For what?" Victor didn't seem to care that Yuri was practically shouting at him.

"Everything!" Yuri grew more frustrated at his apathy. "The way you pranced about with this big fake grin on your face all 'I'm Victor Nikiforov, I'm on top of the world, everybody loves me.'" Yuri didn't know why he was so upset all the sudden. "I know what it looks like to pretend to be happy and you always were. And it wasn't fucking fair because Victor Nikiforov wasn't allowed to be sad."

Strangely enough, it seemed like yelling at him was what it took to get Victor more responsive. "You did it too," Victor said. "Pretended to be happy. You were angry more often."

"I had every right to be," Yuri crossed his arms. "There was only one person in the world who cared about me. I was tired of being sad all the time so it turned into anger."

"You weren't the first sad kid Yakov ever took on," Victor sighed. "I was seven when he took me on. Seven. You learn how to hide it when it happens that young. I kept an eye on you when you got there, I guess it takes one sad kid to recognize another."

"But you weren't supposed to be sad," Yuri shouted. "I was six years old when my parents threw me away, took me to my grandfather's and said they'd be back in two weeks. They never came back for me. All I had was dedushka and a slight speck of hope," he didn't know why he was saying that. "And then I meet you and that was crushed. I always thought my life would be better once I started winning internationally, I would be a star, everybody would love me. My parents...m-my parents, they would finally want me. I would be happy."

"I thought that too," Victor said after a long moment of silence between them. "But fame isn't a cure for sadness. You compensated for it with anger, I covered it up with the closest thing to happiness I could manage."

"You've been happy recently," Yuri said, sighing and flopping down onto the empty half of the couch.

"So have you," Victor said before falling silent for a while. "I really was keeping an eye you over those years, I didn't want you to feel like I did but you never let me close enough to figure you out. I understand family problems though, I know what they do to a person. I remember the time you went to your parents and offered them tickets. I wanted to talk to you when you got back, but I think we were both a bit too broken for that."

Yuri nodded. "Not anymore, not in the same way. I'm not alone anymore."

"No, you're not," Victor smiled. "Neither of us are."

"I-I'm glad that..." Yuri trailed off, the words thick in his throat. "You and Yuuri, I'm happy you're together. And I'm glad to live with you. You care about me and I didn't have that before," he looked everywhere but at Victor. "So thank you, for that. For caring, for being like family."

"I always will care," Victor was smiling, the tone of his voice gave that away. "That's a promise I won't forget."

Yuri stared down at his lap, he had said more than he wanted to. Despite  their constant reassurances that they did want him around, he was still afraid it wouldn't last long. He was afraid of letting anyone get too close. "I'm gonna go," he mumbled, getting up and heading straight to his room.

He said too much and that could only result in him getting hurt once they decided they didn't want him either. He shouldn't be too open, he shouldn't let himself be vulnerable. As long as he didn't get too close or too attached, it wouldn't hurt as much when he was inevitably abandoned—he was already too attached.

Yuri managed to avoid talking to Victor for as long as he could after that happened. He didn't go out of his room to get dinner until he heard Victor go into his room. The next day when they all got up early to drive to Moscow, he sat in the back with Mila, not even complaining when she used his shoulder as a pillow.

The rink nationals was held at was too far away from his grandfather's house for him to be able to go there, but his grandfather did come out to the hotel and eat dinner with him as well as leave him with a bag of piroshkis to snack on.

He made attempts to mingle with the other skaters from different parts of the country, but they all seemed to have trouble holding conversation with him. He couldn't tell if this was because they impressed by him—he did win gold last year after all—or if they didn't want to associate with him because of he was trans. He hoped it was more the first than the second.

Despite his complaints, Yuri's room was right next to Victor's and he could hear him moving about through the thin walls. It was both annoying and a little bit concerning to know that the older man was having trouble sleeping. But since Yuri was trying to distance himself a little, he didn't do anything about it, Victor always performed well anyway.

Yuri couldn't even tell during the short program that Victor was tired. Obviously not getting enough sleep didn't affect him too much, because he skated his program flawlessly. Though his emotional portrayal was not the same as it usually was.

Yuri didn't skate his short as well as he did at the GPF and ended up in third, ahead of Georgi but behind some nineteen year old, Maxim or something like that. Victor of course ended in first.

After skating, Yuri went with his grandfather for a few hours since he wouldn't be able to make it to the free skate. He was a bit disappointed by that, but he appreciated the time he did get to spend with his grandfather.

He ended up getting back to the hotel much later than he was supposed to. For some reason he couldn't get comfortable and ended up just staring at the ceiling for a few hours. At one point he could hear Victor talking in the other room which meant he had stayed up way too late and Yuuri had gotten up early so that the two could talk to each other the morning of Christmas Eve which Yuri knew was sort of like a Valentine's Day in Japan so it would be important to Yuuri.

Thankfully the free skate wasn't until the day after or Yuri would've done terribly. He had barely managed to fall asleep and was almost late in heading to the rink to catch Mila's performance.

The only person he was better off than was Victor who looked half dead and was attempting to watch a shitty livestream of Japanese nationals since Yuuri was performing that day. Yuri didn't even know where he had managed to find the stream. Everybody seemed to have decided that it was best to give Victor a wide berth.  Yakov was the only person who even bothered talking to him, though even he could barely get a response from him.

Yuri ended up going to bed early that night due to how poorly he had slept the night before. He needed to be well rested for his free skate because he couldn't risk not medalling. If he didn't medal that would pretty much end his season and quite possibly lead to The Offer being rescinded before he could properly consider it.

Thankfully he managed to fall asleep immediately and sleep for a good fourteen hours. He wasn't even groggy upon waking up, so he decided that it was going to be a great day.

Yuri put on Christmas music to do his morning stretches to. Even though the holiday wasn't really celebrated in Russia and he was rather indifferent to it, it was fun to listen to the music and dance around knowing that all around the world people were doing the same.

Russian nationals were almost always held over the same dates every year. Everyone at the rink jokingly referred to it as Victor's birthday celebration, since it usually coincided with that. Yuri usually would get Victor something small since that's what everybody at the rink would do. The year before he had gotten him a mug with a poodle on it, but he hadn't gotten anything this year. He didn't have time to worry about that though.

After Yuri went through all of his stretches, he headed out to join the others for breakfast—it was more of a brunch really—before they would go over to the rink together. He was in an unusually good mood and was humming some song he had stuck in his head when he took his seat.

"Someone is cheerful," Mila smiled at him, she wasn't skating that day. "What's gotten into you, you were such a grouch yesterday."

Yuri just shrugged and began eating the fruit cup that had already been procured for him. He didn't have anything to say so he kept quiet.

Victor joined them a few minutes later, he looked much more relaxed and happier than he had in a couple days. "Yuuri won gold," he smiled, letting everyone at the table know. "A great birthday present."

Yuri was surprised Victor remembered that it was his birthday, that was the kind of thing he would forget, but it made sense that he would remember it from Yuuri. Victor seemed as if he was looking forward to skating now, something that wasn't normal for him.

They stayed at the table for another twenty minutes before heading over to the rink for competition. Since it wasn't an international competition, the buzz of excitement in the air wasn't as noticeable as it could be. It was much homier than skating the GP series was.

Everybody was speaking in a language he could understand and he was set to skate on the ice in the city he had spent most of his life in. Everything about it was comfortable and familiar, he knew he could do well.

That sense of comfort stayed with him, he was happy, he was buzzing with excitement, he was ready to perform. Yuri was ready to go out onto the ice and fly, he had everything inside him just waiting to flow out onto the ice. This feeling stuck with him all the way up to the six minute warmup for his group.

Everything was perfect. Until it wasn't. Yuri was on the ice with the others, he felt like he was soaring. And then his eyes caught onto something that caused his legs to give out beneath him.

He landed in a sitting position and was so shocked that he didn't realize what had happened. It took him perhaps a little too long to get up based on the murmurs he heard from the crowd and the way the other skaters were eyeing him.

There were still two minutes left of the warmup but he had to get off the ice. He had to get away from the itchy stares he could feel boring holes into him. He had to get away from what he had seen.

Yuri managed to grab his skate guards from Yakov and put them on before stepping off the ice. "They're here, why?" He mumbled, looking at his coach for an answer. "I have to...hallway," he turned and left before he could get an answer.

With three people skating before him, he would have approximately twenty minutes before he had to skate. That should give him enough time to calm down.

Instead of going to the room intended for the athletes to wait in, he went just outside the door of it in a hallway that was inaccessible to anyone but the athletes and the staff. There weren't any benches, so he sat on the floor with his back against the wall and put his head in his hands. He closed his eyes tightly and pressed his palms against them, causing colorful dots to fleck across the blackness of his eyelids.

He needed to do well in his program, he had to land the podium. He couldn't, no he wouldn't let himself panic.

There was no saying for sure if he saw what he thought he did. The audience was hard to focus on, making out distinct faces was difficult. And he hadn't seen them in years so he couldn't be sure. They had no reason to be there anyway. He could have just overreacted. He knew he had a tendency to work himself up over nothing.

He counted to sixty in his head and moved his hands away from his face. There was a tightness in his chest and he couldn't afford to panic right then. He had given himself a moment to worry and now he had to calm down.

Yuri was suddenly thankful for the session with the sports psychologist Yuuri had forced him to go to. He had thought it pointless, but she had taught him a breathing technique for situations like this one.

He stretched his legs out in front of him and let his muscles relax, exhaling as he let the tension go. His eyelids fluttered shut and he breathed in through his nose for a count of four, he held it for a count of seven, and exhaled out his mouth for a count of eight. Then repeat, in, hold it, out.

Yuri focused solely on counting his breaths and let everything else fall away. The muffled sounds of cheers floating through the wall served as a timer for him. After the second loud cheer he opened his eyes and stood up.

His heart rate had gone back to normal and he felt lighter, the slight air of panic that had been clinging to him earlier was gone. He was calm and he was going to stay that way.

He stepped back into the staging room and saw that Georgi was performing. That gave him just enough time to do his pre-competition stretches and get himself into the right mindset.

Yakov shot him a slightly concerned glance when he stepped back into the arena. "Can you skate?" He asked.

Yuri nodded. "It doesn't matter if they're here," he said. "I don't have anything to prove."

"Good," Yakov offered him a smile. "You'll make us all proud."

Yuri smiled as he pressed his skate guards into Yakov's hand. He didn't have to say anything, he would show it instead. He skated to the center of the ice a little sooner than he needed to and sought out the faces he had seen before.

Even from far away it would be hard to mistake them. He stared in that direction, his face set in steely determination that spoke loudly and clearly. Today he wasn't going to skate to win. He didn't have anything to prove, but he had a point he wanted to make. Today he was going to skate to show who he was.

He kept his eyes steadily locked on them until it was time for him to fall into his starting position. Head bowed, eyes downcast, arms limp.  _You did this to me_ , the position said.

And then the music started and he began. It was different this time, he knew it was. There wasn't one specific story he was telling. He was showing how far he had come from being a broken little six year old. He showed all of his hurt and everything that had ever soothed it. He was still broken, he was still hurt. He always would be, but he was stronger.

He was strength and beauty and humility and everything else under the sun. For once he wasn't flying, he was dancing. He had come so far since that night when he was six, and he was showing that to them. Not because he wanted them to see it or cared that they did, but because he wanted to show it to himself.

His gaze was full of fire and determination when he took his final pose, a steady harsh look that said _Look what I've become_.

Yuri's chest was heaving from the effort when he stepped off the ice to a smile and a clap on the back. His performance wasn't perfect, he had touched down on his quad toe and several of his jumps and spins weren't as tight as they should be, so he TES score ended up lower than what he would've wanted. His PCS was the highest it had ever been though which was unusual.

"Good job," Yakov smiled when his score was announced. "You just medaled."

Yuri went back into the staging area to cool down before the medal ceremony which would happen in about fifteen minutes. He didn't want his legs to end up hurting from not stretching properly like they did after the final a few weeks prior.

The guy after him was good—of course they all were—but not good enough, much like Yuri he tended to focus more on the technical aspects than on artistry and it didn't help that he had fallen on two jumps. Yuri didn't care to see his score. He didn't really watch Victor's performance either.

The silver medal placed around his neck felt almost weightless, but at the same time, it was also very heavy. It didn't represent how hard he hard worked unlike his other medals, it was else entirely. A representation of how far he had come.

He left the medal around his neck when he changed out of his costume and skates and back into warmup gear and his jacket. He expected that they would head back to the hotel or go somewhere to eat after any interviews died down, but when he went to find Yakov, the situation was the worst one possible.

Yakov and Victor were standing in an alcove of sorts talking to the last two people he ever wanted to see, the reason he had almost panicked before his free skate. His parents.

Yuri froze where he was standing a bit behind Yakov, he was sure his parents could see him but they didn't mention that.

"We were supposed to settle business tonight," Yakov was speaking. "What are you doing here?"

"Anton and I were given free tickets," Natalya, Yuri's mother, spoke. "We couldn't pass up the opportunity to see Victor Nikiforov in person, you are quite the star, happy birthday by the way."

"I don't want well wishes from the likes of you," Victor was angry. "I'm not the only star out there, Yuri's the one to watch out for."

"Real pity she still has her mind set on ice skating," Natalya looked at Yuri as she said that. "She was more suited for dancing."

"I think you'll find he does better when he enjoys what he is doing," Yakov was also angry. "That boy is one of the best skaters I have ever had the privilege of teaching." He shook his head and stepped back, obviously not wanting to further the conversation. Yuri followed him.

"Why are they here?" Yuri asked. "What business do you have with them?"

"It's a long story," Yakov sighed. "Some legal matters that we've been working on resolving for years. Nothing you need to worry about. Everything is fixed after tonight."

"You were hiding it from me?" Yuri half stated half asked. He wasn't even upset about it, knowing about that would have made him feel awful not even a year ago. "Okay."

"You don't have to listen in on them," Yakov said, noticing the way Yuri kept glancing in that direction.

Yuri walked back over there anyway and took his position behind Victor again.

"-you don't get congratulate me on my engagement," Yuri had never seen Victor so angry before, he would be scared if it was aimed at him. "My fiancé, my future husband, is a transgender male and you have made it quite clear you don't support that."

"You are quite popular," Natalya dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand. "You have to attract the weird ones as well."

"No," Victor was seething. "Yuuri, my fiancé, is the most wonderful man I have ever met in my life, not some weird plaything of mine. And Yuri, my son, is an amazing boy who is growing into an even better young man."

"She isn't your child," Natalya said. "If she hadn't decided to murder my daughter she would be mine."

"Yuri Plisetsky is my son," Victor stated as if it were an undeniable fact. "It doesn't matter if it's not by blood or if it's even legally recognized, that boy is my son. I know how you treated him and you're lucky I wasn't aware of that before we last met."

If it were anybody else Yuri was certain his mother would be trembling in her shoes by now. Victor was scary like this. Yuri took a step forward so that he could see him.

"Yeva," Natalya clicked her tongue. "That hairstyle is pretty on you."

Yuri grit his teeth and looked up at Victor. "That isn't his name," Victor said coldly.

"Yeva...Yuri," it was Anton who spoke this time.

"Don't," Yuri spoke up, shooting Victor a look that said he needed to do this himself. "It's ten years too late to say anything nice and almost seventeen years too late to be decent people."

"Don't speak to your father like that," Natalya frowned.

"He isn't my father and you're not my mother," Yuri shook his head. "You already had your second chance and you didn't take it. Yeva Plisetskaya was never real, Yuri Plisetsky is. I gave you the chance to accept that and you chose not to, I see now that that was more than you deserved. You don't get to hurt me ever again."

Everybody was silent at his assertion. "I am my own person, I define who I am. You chose not to accept that and you lost me because of it. You don't get me back, you messed up. You never loved me for who I was, I was just some puppet meant to conform to your standards," Yuri continued. "You know what, I don't care what you think of me anymore, it doesn't matter. That skating I did today proves it, you can both fuck off."

Yuri turned and left without even seeing the look on his parents—no, they weren't his parents—on Anton and Natalya's faces. He grew lighter with every step he took away from them. They would never matter to him again.

Later at the hotel over Victor's birthday dinner, Yuri sat next to him and wouldn't leave his side the entire night. That was what family really looked like.

"Thank you," Yuri had said, throwing his arms around Victor. He was a little less scared of being abandoned now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, this was a fun one to write. It was new to focus more on Victor's impact than Yuuri's. I hope you like it. I'd love to know what your favorite part as, best line, best dialogue, etc. 
> 
> Also, I'm planning on writing a little mini series of oneshots to go along with this so if there are any scenes you'd like to see, let me know and I might write it. It can deal with any character


	24. Of New Years and Meditation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: I know I said I would be updating this every week but I'm going into finals week and will be pressed for time so there may only be one or two updates over the next three weeks. I may still manage a chapter a week but that all depends on how much studying I need to do.

Yuri didn't budge from Victor's side until they picked Yuuri up from the airport a few days later, he even made Victor sit in the back row with him on the way back to St. Petersburg despite his complaints about long legs.

He was a little too close to Victor when they met Yuuri outside of customs and ended up getting caught in the hug between the two. "I can't breath," Yuri tried to wriggle away. "You're squishing me."

"I missed you both," Yuuri said when he finally let go, his eyes shining with tears. "That was a long week." Victor and Yuuri's hands immediately clasped together as they went to baggage claim.

"Far too long," Victor agreed, pulling their clasped hands up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to Yuuri's ring.

"Gross," Yuri rolled his eyes at them.

"Don't act as if you didn't miss me too," Yuuri laughed. "You texted me almost as often as he did, maybe more."

"Whatever," Yuri stuck his tongue out. "It's not like I care or was worried or anything."

"Anyway," Yuuri ignored his comment. "My family made it out to watch and wanted me to wish you a happy birthday Vitya, I'm convinced they love you more than me now. They sent well wishes your way too Yuri, especially Mari. They're acting as if you two are family, which technically you are of course."

"They are too kind," Victor grinned. "I can't wait until we visit again, Yurio needs to come too."

"Yeah yeah," Yuri's tone suddenly turned bitter. "We all know Yuuri won the good parent lottery out of all of us, no need to brag about it."

"Did something happen?" Yuuri asked, looking up at Victor.

"Yes," Victor merely nodded, looking at Yuri as if to say it was up to him if he wanted to talk about it.

"Yes," Yuri echoed. "My paren-Anton and Natalya were there the day of the free skate, almost sent me into a panic attack but I used that breathing technique to calm down. Had to cut my warmup short."

"Tried talking to me afterwards," Victor frowned at the memory. "Told me I attract the weird ones."

"I trust you gave them a piece of your mind," Yuuri frowned upon hearing that.

"I didn't have to," Victor said. "Yuri did."

Yuuri looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. "They kept calling me that name," Yuri said. "Talking about me like I wasn't a real person. So I told them they weren't my parents and they needed to fuck off."

"You'll never have to see them again if I have any say in that," Yuuri frowned deeper. "I'm glad you told them off. If I was there I wouldn't have tolerated even a word from their mouths, I can't believe they had the nerve to show their faces after what they did to our Yura."

"Now now darling," Victor shot Yuuri a look.

Yuri sighed. "I don't want to think about them. They aren't my parents, they don't matter."

"You're right," Victor said more cheerfully. "Let's go get ice cream and go home."

Yuuri pulled his bag from the conveyor since it had finally arrived. "Love, it's freezing outside. How about hot chocolate at home."

"I like Yuuri's idea better," Yuri agreed.  "We have ice cream at home too anyway."

They did in fact have both ice cream and hot chocolate at home, something all three of them appreciated. Yuri topped his off with marshmallows and had a small bowl of cookie dough ice cream.

"I think I want to celebrate my birthday like this every year," Victor smiled. "It's nice and peaceful."

"I'll make sure of it," Yuuri kissed him.

"You're being sappy again," Yuri said. "Very sappy. So sappy my hot cocoa isn't sweet anymore."

"You can go in your room," Victor laughed. "We aren't going to force you to see our sappiness. Wouldn't want you to die from seeing two very much in love, engaged people cuddle."

"Or you could come sit with us and pick out a movie," Yuuri offered. "You love movie night."

"You keep telling yourself that," Yuri said as he got up and put some random Disney movie on. "That doesn't make it true."

Yuuri tossed the edge of the blanket covering him and Victor over Yuri's lap when he sat down. "Yuuri always cries at this one," Victor said as the opening scene rolled.

"Whatever, he cries at all of them," Yuri shrugged. "It has that one cute cat scene though, so we're watching it."

"I suppose it's fitting," Yuuri said. "Main character is a boy genius, you're a prodigy. There's a cat. The similarities are endless."

"Just let me watch the movie," Yuri grumbled, tugging the blanket closer to himself and pulling it off Victor in the process, much to his dismay.

Yuuri was jet lagged so he ended up falling asleep not even halfway through the show with Yuri not too far behind. He could fall asleep anywhere as long as he felt warm and safe, and next to these two with the dog at his feet and a movie playing in the background, it wouldn't be too far a stretch to say it was just about the safest he ever felt.

He woke up to Victor carrying him to his room and tucking him into bed. "Hmm, time is it?" Yuri mumbled, peering through his eyelashes.

"Hush now my little star," Victor's voice was soft and the brush of his fingers against Yuri's forehead was even softer. Yuri felt himself drifting back towards sleep. "Sweet dreams."

Yuri's eyes fluttered shut once again and he curled into his side before falling asleep entirely.

They had the week off to recover from competition fatigue before returning to practice for Europeans. The break consisted of little of anything, just how it should be.

Yuri spent the days inside his own head, thinking of nothing and everything. And for once that didn't scare him. He was more at peace with himself than he had been in a while. He didn't know why that was, but he didn't find reason to question it.

Victor and Yuuri were more than immersed in each other, so Yuri spent the time mostly alone. A whole week felt much longer than it actually was when he was used to days stuffed to the maximum.

Since they had missed out on many holidays during the season, they decided to go all out for New Years. Yuri wasn't even sure when this happened, but two days into the break he came out of his room to find that a New Years tree had been put up—a small dusty old thing that looked like it had been in a box for years—as well as a couple wreaths, there were also some oranges lying around.

Somehow Yuri ended up getting sucked into their festivities as well and was recruited to help them come up with even more things to add to their franken-celebration.

"You've got to have something to add Yurio," Victor pouted after he had rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time.

"I didn't really celebrate anything," Yuri muttered. "The only thing I remember is stupid."

"Well let's hear it anyway," Yuuri smiled encouragingly.

"It's something my grandmother used to do," Yuri said. "I never knew her, but dedushka told me about it. Apparently when you get a new house, you're supposed to let a cat be the first to step over the threshold to insure harmony or some shit," he shrugged. "So she thought that it was best to apply that principle to every year and have it happen on New Years so there would be harmony that year."

"Well, looks like Empress has a job now," a Victor smiled. "We can add that to our celebration."

"When I was in Detroit, some of the other people from the skating club would have Phichit and I over for holidays," Yuuri said. "For New Years they would go outside right before midnight and just start making a lot of noise. Shouting, dancing, banging pots and pans. New Years kisses and fireworks. A grand old loud time, I almost miss those days."

"We'll do that too then," Victor said. "That gives us a reason to be out of the house and send in the cat anyway."

"You've got to have something to add," Yurilooked at Victor. "You made me contribute."

Victor's excitement faded at that. "I haven't really celebrated anything in a long time," he shrugged. "I don't think I have something to add. It was just me and Makkachin for the most part, I would make a salad and get drunk. Not much else to it."

"It sounds like we'll be making a salad then," Yuuri smiled. "This will be a good holiday for all of us."

Yuri ducked out of the room at that, they were getting that look they always got before getting sappy with each other. He did not care to be a part of that in the slightest.

When the holiday came to be, Yuri found himself sitting cross legged on the mats Yuuri had brought from home that had been placed in the middle of the living room. There was about an hour left until midnight and they were talking, empty pates that had been filled with fish cakes and a hearty salad sat pushed to the side along with orange peels.

Yuuri was idly fidgeting with a piece of paper and looking at Victor with a content smile on his face that was mirrored on Victor's. "You know, they say if you fold a thousand of these you get to make a wish," Yuuri made the final crease on an origami crane.

"Is that so?" Victor asked.

Yuuri nodded. "Back when I was a little kid, Mari and I would fold them. We always started on New Years and it was a competition of sorts to see who would get their wish first. The only rule was you had to fold all of them within a year."

"Did you ever manage it?" Yuri asked, eying the paper bird in curiosity.

"A few times," Yuuri nodded. "I would fold them when I was anxious, so I made quite a few. My apartment back in college was littered with them."

"And what did you wish for?" Victor leaned forward as he asked the question.

"Lots of things," Yuuri gave a half smile. "To be a real boy, to be a better figure skater, to have a friend," he paused. "And this."

"You can't have wished for this," Yuri rolled his eyes.

"Well, maybe not this exactly," Yuuri said. "But I wished to be on the same level as Victor, and I'd say this is pretty close."

Victor tackled him in a hug at that statement. "You're so sweet Yuuri!"

"Not really," Yuuri shrugged. "What about you? If you had one wish right now, what would it be?"

Victor thought on that for a moment. "To spend every holiday for the rest of my life with the love of my life," he finally decided. "You?"

"The same, absolutely the same," Yuuri replied. "What about you, Yura, what would you wish for?"

Yuri blinked. He didn't know what to say. Any wish, any impossible wish. What could he possibly want most in the world. There would be no point in wishing to change the past, but if he could have anything going into the future, he would want... _This. A family, people who cared about him, total acceptance without question_. "Another cat," Yuri shrugged. "To beat your asses at worlds." They didn't need to know his answer.

"Typical Yurio," Victor laughed. "Cats and gold medals, always on the mind."

"As if you aren't always thinking about Yuuri and that mutt of yours," Yuri rolled his eyes.

"Makkachin is a purebred, thank you very much," Victor sounded very indignant about it. "He didn't mean it Makka, you're the best dog," he added, looking over at where the dog slept.

"All pets are good pets," Yuuri said, folding another paper crane. "No need for argument."

"Cats are better," Yuri said without missing a beat. "There is no argument."

"Oh would you look at that, it's almost midnight," Yuuri pointed at the clock to draw attention away from their petty argument.

"You're right," Victor confirmed. "We'd better head outside now then. Grab Empress Yurio, I'll get Makkachin."

Yuri pulled his jacket on and scooped up his cat before heading out the front door with the others. It was quiet outside, but the lights coming out from almost every house showed that they weren't the only ones up to celebrate the new year.

"Almost time," Yuuri held his phone up to show the countdown. Only thirty seconds left.

It had been a good year. It had given him a place to call home, people who were something like family. He had been hurt, but never broken. He was a sword in the forge, soon to be a deadly weapon.

Perhaps it had been his best year yet. Far from perfect, but he knew it was the closest he had ever gotten. He had a best friend and others who could also be called friends. He had fans who would cheer him on through anything. He had a very good cat.

Yuri didn't know what the new year would bring, but as long as it was at least somewhat like the prior, he knew it would be great.

"Three, two, one! Happy new year," Yuri was rustled from his thoughts just in time to hear Yuuri and Victor finish the countdown. He smiled to himself and looked up at the moonless sky, there was a feeling of elation in his chest that he had never associated with the holiday before. He didn't even tease Victor and Yuuri about the kiss they were sharing.

"I think I can see more stars than usual," Yuuri said once he and Victor finally pulled away from each other. "Look."

Yuri tipped his head back to see the stars. "I think you're right," he smiled.

"Me too," Victor agreed. The three of them stood with their heads turned towards the heavens until a bark from Makkachin reminded them of what they had been doing.

"We should probably let the pets back inside," Yuuri said. "Yura, would you like to do the honors?"

Yuri nodded and stepped towards the front door, pulling it open before crouching down. "Go on Empress," he set the cat down and received a look of betrayal when her feet met the cold ground. "Inside girl, go inside." His cat put one tentative foot in the doorway as if testing to make sure it was fine and then darted inside.

"You next Makkachin," Victor pointed towards the door and the dog happily obliged. "There, that must be a guarantee of harmony," he smiled.

"Dance with me," Yuuri reached out with both hands and grabbed onto Victor and Yuri, tugging them towards himself. "It'll be fun."

Yuri managed to extract his arm from Yuuri's grip and shook his head. "No way," he said. "I'm not dancing with you."

"Aw, come on," Victor pouted, reaching his free hand out towards Yuri. "We all know you love dancing."

"It's dark and cold and you two are gross," Yuri crossed his arms. "Not gonna happen."

"Not even a little bit," Yuuri waved his hand. "For me?"

"Ugh, fine," Yuri huffed, taking both of their hands and allowing himself to be pulled into their impromptu dance of sorts. "That does not mean I will enjoy this though. It's just to shut you two idiots up."

"Aww, he is having fun," Victor grinned.

"Shut up," Yuri grumbled. "Am not."

Victor and Yuuri just rolled their eyes and kept dancing. He wouldn't say it out loud, but Yuri was enjoying himself. Only a little bit though.

Eventually he did manage to pull away again and watch as the other two stepped into a waltz. It was so ridiculous he couldn't help but snort. Here they were, outside in the middle of the night during winter in Russia, and these two idiots were dancing as if they would never see each other again. There wasn't even any music for them to dance to, and it was cold enough that Yuri's hands were going numb.

"I'm going inside," Yuri said. "It's cold and I'm tired." He was fairly certain they didn't hear him.

He turned the front light on for them and grabbed Empress before heading into his room to go to bed. He barely managed to change into pajamas before collapsing onto his bed and falling asleep in a cocoon of blankets.

Yuri was woken up some time later by a hand on his shoulder. "Get up, get up," it was Victor.

"What do you want?" Yuri mumbled. "It's still dark out."

"That's the point," Victor was much too excited for how early it was. "Get up, dress warm, and grab your skates. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Yuri tossed his arm over his eyes and groaned, there was no getting out of whatever Victor had planned, certainly not when he sounded that gleeful about it. He gave himself a few minutes to wake up before dragging himself out of bed and getting dressed. He threw on a heavy jacket on top of his normal layers and tossed his skates over his shoulder.

Out in the kitchen he was met with an equally confused Yuuri and a grinning Victor. "Vitya, what are we doing?" Yuuri asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"It's a surprise," Victor said. "You'll see."

"This better be worthwhile," Yuri grumbled. "I was very comfortable."

"It will be," Victor insisted as he pulled his own coat on. "Here take these," he tossed a scarf to both of them. "You should probably get a hat too Yurio."

Yuri knew it was beyond pointless to bother asking more questions so he trudged back to his room and found a warm hat of his before joining them again. "Are we leaving now?"

"Yes, come on," Victor went out the front door and looked behind him expectantly.

"Are we not taking the car?" Yuuri asked.

"It's within walking distance," Victor grinned. "Hurry up you two."

"Stupid Victor and his stupid ideas," Yuri muttered under his breath as they walked through the icy, empty sidewalks. "Stupid snow, stupid Russia. Stupid mornings." Next to him Yuuri nodded in agreement, neither of them was happy about being woken up so early.

Victor was annoyingly cheerful about it, whistling and humming and acting as if he had gotten a proper nights sleep. Yuri was glad that he was in a significantly better mood than he had been just a week earlier, but that did not mean he appreciated being subjected to such cheerfulness so early in the day.

"We're here," Victor spun in a circle with his arms outstretched.

"The park?" Yuuri crinkled his nose in confusion. "Why here?"

Yuri's mood lifted when he realized what they were doing. "Couldn't we have just gone to the rink?" He asked.

"No," Victor shook his head. "This is better."

"What are we doing here," Yuuri was still confused.

"There's a pond," Yuri said. He had seen it many times since he would often walk to the park when he needed to think due to its proximity to Victor's house. "It freezes over. He brought us here to skate."

"Why not the rink?" Yuuri echoed Yuri's earlier question.

"Because this is outside," Victor scratched the back of his neck. "You know, so we can see the first sunrise. That's a thing, right? I looked it up."

Yuuri practically collapsed in a fit of laughter before throwing his arms around Victor. "Vitya, you are so sweet. I can't believe you made us get up for this."

"You pulled me out of bed so you could be sappy," Yuri rolled his eyes. "Of course you did."

"I pulled you out of bed so that you'd enjoy yourself," Victor said, pulling away from Yuuri and knocking snow off of a bench. "Skates on," he pulled a towel from his bag and spread it across the bench before sitting down and switching out his shoes for his skates.

"Whatever," Yuri rolled his eyes but sat down and pulled his skates on anyway.

There was only enough room on the bench for two people, so Yuri and Victor got on the ice before Yuuri had the chance to put his skates on. "Be careful you two," Yuuri laughed. "You have a competition in less than a month."

Victor made some remark in return but Yuri didn't catch it. He was too busy enjoying the feeling of the ice underneath his feet and the sky that was slowly growing lighter above his head.

Yuri couldn't remember the last time he had skated anywhere but a proper ice rink. He couldn't even remember if he ever had done so. Back when he lived with his par-Anton and Natalya, they hadn't taken him to do anything beyond his ballet lessons, figure skating lessons, and school. He had never gone skating with his grandfather because of an injury the man had sustained in his youth.

Once he started training under Yakov he was kept busy all throughout the winter, his free time not coexisting with frozen ponds. Until the year prior he hadn't even had any friends to do stuff with. So he figured that this was in fact the first time he had ever done this.

The ice wasn't the same as the cold companion he knew of indoor rinks, it was friendlier if ice could be described as such. There were no harsh lights shining down on him, just the watery grey glow of the pre-sunrise sky.

It was times like this that he felt infinite, as if he had existed forever. As if he had lived many lives and had loved the ice dearly in every single one. Because he did, love the ice that is. In that moment he felt as if he would have always ended up where he was no matter what choices he had made. Somehow he would be where he was underneath the brightening sky, the rough ice scratched up from the neighborhood children beneath his feet.

Here he felt as if he were entirely himself, a truer version than he had ever been before. Perhaps it was something about the muffled livelihood of the park or the trees weighed down by snow. Perhaps it was the echoes of birdsong he could hear despite the birds being gone for winter. There was something so real, so human about it. He wasn't sure if he wanted to cry or laugh.

Instead he did neither, he skated—something as easy as breathing. He moved in lazy figure eights, looking about in wonder as if it were the first time he had ever seen the world. He could feel the icy air on his face and the solid ice beneath his feet, he could hear the sound of his blades skimming across the frozen surface. He felt free. He felt alive.

Yuri didn't know where the feeling had come from, but he clung onto it with both hands. He was tired of being sad, he was tired of being angry, he was tired of being tired. He wanted to feel like this more often: free, joyful, untouchable. He stopped skating when the first rays of the first sun of the year peaked their way above the horizon.

"Look," Yuri pointed, a peaceful smile gracing his face. "Sunrise."

"He's right," Victor swiveled Yuuri so that all three of them were facing it.

"The first of the year," Yuuri smiled. "It's going to be a good one."

"Definitely," Victor nodded. "You should marry me, let's get married."

"Victor you're already engaged," Yuri pointed out. "You are going to marry him."

"No, right here, right now," Victor clarified. "Marry me Yuuri."

"Vitya," Yuuri flushed and took his hands. "Nothing would make me happier."

"Yurio, you can officiate," Victor looked at him with the biggest grin.

If Yuri weren't in such a good mood he probably would have thrown a snowball at them, even in his good mood he was tempted to. "You two are the most ridiculous couple I have ever met in my life," he skated over towards them.

"But you'll do it right?" Victor was really layering on the charm, that was the look Yuri used with old ladies at banquets.

"Please," Yuuri just looked happy to be there.

"Fine," Yuri huffed. "But don't expect me to be any good at this. Um...this is a celebration of love? Not that these two need to emphasize that any more than the usually do," he scrambled for what he should say. "These two love each other and skating and dogs, even though cats are clearly the far superior species."

Victor scoffed slightly at that comment but didn't say anything.

"Uh, so we celebrate their love for each other through this union of theirs," Yuri continued, trying to remember what sort of things were said at weddings. "So uh, Victor, do you take Yuuri as your not legal or binding husband?"

"I do," Victor laughed, slipping Yuuri's ring back onto his hand. "I always do."

"And Yuuri, do you take this over-energetic idiot of a human as your definitely not legally recognized spouse?" Yuri couldn't help but smile at how happy they were.

"I do," Yuuri places Victor's ring back on his hand and pulled him into a kiss.

"You're going to be the death of me," Yuri rolled his eyes at the whole situation and skated away since it didn't look like they had any intentions of parting anytime soon.

He was still in a remarkably good mood so he figured he would enjoy it while it lasted. It had warmed up just enough that there was a barely noticeable change in the frigid air. The sky had gone from watery grey to watery blue-grey which was about as nice as it got during the winter.

They only stayed for another half hour and Yuri was almost reluctant to go having enjoyed himself much more than he had anticipated. The promise of warmth and hot cocoa was enough to pull him in though.

Yuuri and Victor swing their entwined arms back and forth for the duration of the walk back to Victor's house, somehow they only managed to hit him once. "You should definitely officiate our official wedding," Victor grinned at him once again. Yuri wondered how Victor's face muscles never got tired of smiling so much. "That was a beautiful ceremony."

"Whatever," Yuri shrugged. "You can't even count it as a ceremony, there was nobody there."

"Doesn't matter," Yuuri said. "It was very good, thank you for obliging. My not legal husband is the most wonderful person."

"Well, you two are gross again, you're not even legally husband and spouse yet," Yuri stated. "I am out of here." He headed to his room, mug of marshmallow adorned cocoa in hand.

The rest of the week slipped by peacefully and practice picked up just as rough as it had let off. Europeans was just around the corner and he'd be damned if he settled for anything less than silver.

He spent his time skating, eating, and sleeping often falling asleep curled up on the couch or flopped down on the floor after stretching, he always woke up in his bed though. Maybe he was working himself too hard, but after his failure at the Grand Prix, he needed to do well at Europeans.

The day before they were set to fly out, Lilia called him off the ice barely an hour into practice. "Yuri!" Her voice was sharp and biting, she had the uncanny ability to make it clear who she was speaking to without specifying if she wanted Yuri or Yuuri. "Two minute cool down, then you're off the ice until Ostrava."

Yuri knew better than to argue with her when she used that tone and he immediately went about doing what she said. She and Yakov both were standing near the gate when he got off the ice. "What's going on?" Yuri asked as he was handed his skate guards. "Practice isn't over yet."

"It is for you," Yakov said. "Skates off."

"You're going to hurt yourself at this rate young man," Lilia told him. "If Europeans wasn't this week I'd have you off the ice for three days."

"I'm fine," Yuri said as he took his skates off. "I haven't done anything to hurt myself, I wasn't even pushing the quads today."

"You're practicing like this is worlds," Yakov scolded. "If you keep it up, you'll peak early like you did last year and you won't do well where it matters. There are more main contenders going to Four Continents this season than Europeans."

"I need to do well," Yuri crossed his arms. He didn't think he had overworked himself too much.

"And you will," Lilia said in a matter of fact voice. "There are few out there who can match your beauty on the ice."

"You, Vitya, and Giacometti are the three highest ranked going in," Yakov said. "And that's after what happened at the final. You know how Vitya is, Giacometti is lacking inspiration this season, Crispino is freshly back from an injury, Nekola lacks stamina. You will be fine without practice today."

"Then can I go nap or something?" Yuri asked, he wouldn't deny that he was tired. "We can't let the couch in the office go to waste, and the idiots will be out there for hours."

"Go ahead," Lilia said. "Take a nap or speak with the rinks psychologist, she's in today. Whatever you choose, just no practice."

"Nap," Yuri walked off towards the office. The couch in there was very comfortable, perhaps the most comfortable couch he had ever seen before, he would not turn down a chance to take a nap on it even though he'd rather be practicing.

The ban on him skating wasn't lifted until the second public practice for Europeans and he was practically itching by the time he was finally allowed on the ice. It had only been a couple days and the rest was needed, but it felt like much longer. It was clear from the moment he stepped on the ice that Yakov and Lilia had been right. The only threats to him were Christophe, Victor, and his own anxiety—as much as he hated to admit that last one.

He had hoped that the anxiety had been a one-off thing, but that was proving not to be the case. He wasn't sure what it was due to, but he could feel it below his skin prickling, almost like static.

There was no reason for him to be anxious, the other skaters weren't intimidating him. He wasn't even that worried about losing. And yet he couldn't seem to shake the feeling.

It wasn't like it had been at the Grand Prix final, it was subtler softer. It wasn't a panic attack which he knew how to handle, it was just there in his way.

"Yuri, you're much too tense," Lilia commented when he came to the side of the rink the day of the short program.

Yuri knew she was right, he was standing much too stiffly and his shoulders hadn't relaxed in two days. "I'm...anxious I suppose," he shifted back and forth. "I shouldn't be, this is stupid."

"You can't perform like this," Yakov said. "You still have an hour before your group is up for practice, be back in fifty minutes. Do what you can to calm down."

Yuri was grateful for the permission to leave. Fifty minutes should be enough time for him to settle his nerves. He put his headphones on and turned the music up a little louder than necessary to drown out his thoughts and attempted to let his body relax.

He wasn't worried that he couldn't skate his program, but he knew it would be too choppy with all the tension he was holding. After a few minutes he decided he needed some fresh air.

Since he didn't want to be stopped by a reporter or a fan, he shed his Russia team jacket somewhere near Yakov and pulled his hood securely onto his head before finding a door outside. There were a few benches outside the entrance to the arena so he took the one that seemed the most secluded and sat down.

He would've gone to Yuuri, but he didn't know where he was—probably in the stands somewhere. He also would've gone to Victor, but he was off who knows where doing his pre-competition ritual, and Yuri didn't want to bother him so close to that anyway. So he just would deal with it himself.

It wasn't like he was helpless or anything, just a little bit anxious but not even in a way he had grown used to. There was so little reason for it that it didn't make sense. But stressing about the cause of it would only make it worse.

He took a few deep breaths, Yakov and Lilia were probably right and this was most likely due to him overworking and stressing out his body the past few weeks. With that decided, all he had to do was relax.

Yuri only took thirty of his allotted fifty minutes before returning to where his coach and choreographer stood. The cold air had assisted him in clearing his mind and the strange nervousness he had felt all day had retreated. It was still there, but if it were the ocean it'd be low tide.

By the time he got on the ice for warm up, he had relaxed enough that he only needed to take a few breaths to ground himself. Logically there was nothing for him to worry about and that made him feel better about it in a way.

The ice was where he felt the most himself, so when he stepped out to skate his short program, his nerves settled the rest of the way. Through skating he could express himself in a way that words couldn't manage. He could be so much more than just Yuri.

Off the ice he had trouble expressing himself in ways that weren't anger, but on the ice he could adopt a whole range of emotions, a whole new version of himself. It was a very refreshing feeling.

Once his music started he was no longer Yuri Plisetsky: top Russian figure skater, transgender boy. He become Yuri Plisetsky: son of a tsar, heir to a country. He was himself and he wasn't.

A story in his head and the ice under his feet was all he needed for his performance. The cheering audience was just an extra on top of that.

Yuri skated a clean short program for the first time that season, earning himself his highest TES score in months. It wasn't his best possible performance but it landed him in second place, just a few measly points behind Christophe who had come across inspiration of some sort since the Grand Prix. Much to his delight, he had scored 5.12 points higher than Victor.

For once the interviewers after the short program ended were actually decent people who didn't insist upon pestering Yuri with questions about his gender. He was much more obliging when the questions asked of him were respectable.

Yuri ended up going to bed right after finishing dinner and sleeping as much as possible. He hadn't thought that he had exhausted himself more than usual, but his body sure seemed to think so. He didn't even end up going out to explore the city because of how tired he was. Though spending an entire day resting led to him waking up energized the day of the free skate.

Yuri woke up before his alarm had sounded and for once he wasn't groggy, he wasn't even tempted to go back to bed for another hour. Instead, he got up and went through all of his stretches and managed to arrive downstairs to eat before anybody else did. It was strange for him to arrive so early since he was usually the second to last person to get to the table with everybody else.

He got his customary fruit cup and began picking at that slowly while waiting for everybody else to arrive. "You're up early," Yuuri greeted him a few minutes later.

Yuri shrugged and ate a grape. "I woke up earlier than usual."

"You got up early and Victor's sleeping late," Yuuri smiled. "I haven't seen much of you since the short program, have you been okay?"

"Just tired," Yuri said. "Not now though, I'm ready to kick some ass today."

"You're always ready for that Yuri," Yuuri laughed. "That's nothing new."

"You're just glad you're not competing against me," Yuri laughed. "Because I would definitely beat you."

"I'm glad you're in a good mood today," Yuuri said, reaching out and ruffling his hair.

Yuri rolled his eyes and grew quiet as the dining room began to fill. Everybody else he travelled with slowly arrived, first Lilia then Yakov, Mila, and Georgi who all got there at about the same time. And then quite a bit later, Victor got there with his camera-grade smile already in place. As soon as all of them had eaten something they got up and made their way to the arena.

Yuri changed into his costume once they arrived and then immediately peeled off to find somewhere to finish his warmup. He wasn't a big fan of practicing his routine off ice in a place where others could see him. Luckily there was always a few places closed off to all but competing athletes, so finding one of those was simple.

He had performed his free skate well at Nationals, but something was still missing from his performance and he couldn't figure out what. It felt as if there was something holding him back from giving it his all and he was determined to figure that out before worlds.

The room he was in was designed in such a way that even his nearly silent footfalls managed to echo. It was irritating, but he kept going through his routine regardless, the rink itself was much louder as it was.

He mostly practiced his movements that came toward the end of the program, those required a certain fluidity of both body and soul in tandem that he hadn't managed to master just yet. Skating allowed him to expression emotions he had never been privy to before, but there was something still eluding him in regards to the final bit of emotion he would show.

Yuri went through his program for half an hour before a few other skaters came into the room to practice as well, at that point he decided it would be best to find somewhere else since he had been enjoying the relative silence of solitude. There were always a few rooms to practice in at events this size anyway.

The room next door also had a few people in it so he passed it up to find somewhere more private. He almost bypassed the little corner room as well because upon first glance he saw that someone was in there, but after looking back he noted their silver hair and knew it could only be one person.

Yuri didn't usually run into Victor pre-competition until it was just about to start, so seeing him there was a little bit strange. It was made even more strange by Victor himself who was sitting in the middle of the room. Just sitting there, not dancing, not stretching, but sitting.

"What are you doing?" Yuri asked, causing the older man to startle.

"Oh, I didn't hear you come in," Victor said after a moment. "Did I lose track of time?"

"We got here earlier than usual," Yuri told him. "We have almost two hours. Again, what are you doing?"

"Practicing," Victor stated. "As I'm assuming you're here to do as well."

"You're just sitting there though," Yuri pointed out. "How is that practice?"

"I was meditating, it helps me get into the right mindset," Victor told him. "Come sit, you could probably benefit from it as well."

"If you say so old man," Yuri rolled his but plopped down across from him anyway. "How does this shit work?"

"It's similar to your breathing exercise for panic attacks," Victor said. "But instead of you taking control of your breath, you let it come naturally. Close your eyes and focus on your breathing, how your body moves as you inhale and exhale. How your lungs feel, how your windpipe feels. Dismiss any stray thoughts that come up."

Yuri nodded, it was similar to his breathing exercise but not the same. "Is that how you do it?"

"I've been doing this since I was twelve what I explained to you was a beginners technique like Victor said. "So no, that's not usually how I go about it? But it's a good way to start."

"Okay, I'll try it I guess," Yuri let his eyes fall shut and shifted around so he would be comfortable.

It was surprisingly much more difficult than he had thought it would be. With his breathing exercise he was the one controlling what he did, with this he felt like a spectator in his own body. It was hard to keep his mind clear and it kept wandering to the skate that was to happen soon enough. He managed to shift his focus back to his breathing and chose to concentrate on how the air was cold as he inhaled and warm as he exhaled.

Yuri wasn't sure how long he had been doing it for when Victor tapped him on the shoulder to draw his attention. "You're much better at this than I was when I started it seems," Victor laughed softly. "How did that feel?"

"Weird," Yuri answered truthfully. "Felt like I wasn't in control of myself for a while."

"And how do you feel now?" Victor asked.

"Calmer," Yuri said after thinking about it. "Lighter in a way. I guess you were right about it."

"Then it worked for you," Victor said.

"I think I prefer my breathing exercise, but that wasn't too bad," Yuri said. "Why did you start doing it anyway?"

"It was a way to relax and focus," Victor told him. "Like you said, you kind of felt like you weren't in control, like you were watching yourself from inside. It helped me work through problems," he gave a sad smile.

"It just doesn't seem very you I guess," Yuri shrugged. "You don't seem the type to meditate, especially not when it comes to decision making."

"I never did it for that," Victor shook his head. "It was more for making sense of my life, figuring things out. It helped me forget about the worse parts of life for a while."

"Ah," Yuri stood up. "I guess that makes sense. I have to practice though if I'm gonna kick your ass out there which I fully intend upon doing."

"I have to as well," Victor stretched as he stood up. "I'll stick to this side of the room."

Yuri nodded and walked to the other side of the room so he could practice without getting in Victor's way. He wasn't sure if it was from the meditation or not, but he did feel like he interpreted the piece better than he had been a bit earlier.

Once he felt as if he had run through it enough times, Yuri headed back out to find Yakov again, shortly before it was time for his on ice warmup. He used that remaining time to run his costume over with a lint roller and fix his hair.

Since he was performing second to last, he was back in the staging room for what felt like forever, watching the others perform on the tv screen. He was surprised to find that much of the competition was generally weaker than he had expected. They were good—great even—but they weren't the best and he was used to the best so anything less seemed more mediocre than it really was.

He didn't bother watching Victor's program. He didn't want to know going in what he would have to beat. There was no doubt in his mind that he would earn himself a medal. The cheers at the end of the performance suggested that Victor did well, but it was Victor after all so he could have fallen flat on his face and still be cheered for as if he had set a world record.

Yuri hardly noticed the harsh glow of the lights reflected off the ice as he skated to the middle, his focus was entirely on his program.

It wasn't enough to embody the emotions he didn't know anymore, he had to actually feel them while he was out there. He had to let the music flow through him like a current.

Every step, every jump, every spin had to be perfect. He couldn't allow for anything less. Good wasn't good enough.

He wasn't good enough.

He fell on his triple axel and he got up too late, falling fractionally behind his music.

Bronze was bitter in his mouth and heavy around his neck. He took it home with a small but incontent scowl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so here ya go. Sorry if it got boring or out of character at the end. I kind of had a bad week and got way off schedule on writing. 
> 
> As per usual, I'd love to know what you think. Did you have a favorite quote? A favorite scene?


	25. Of Kitty Cats and Broken Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh I'm just gonna leave this here. Sorry about the quality towards the end

Yuri was in a distinctly foul mood after Europeans, even cuddling with his cat couldn't cheer him up. It was as if every cell in his body had decided to be unhappy for little to no reason at all.

He was a little upset that he hadn't at least taken second because his performance had been good, but even that wasn't really causing his mood. It certainly didn't help that he was forced into taking a week off practice so he had no way to calm himself down. It also didn't help that Victor was in Italy for an ad campaign, and Yuuri was practicing every day, so he was home alone for most of the day.

He could only handle being cooped up for so long and found himself analyzing videos of his performance time and time again to see if the missing piece would fall into place for him. It was glaringly obvious that his free skate was missing something, it just wasn't so obvious as to what that was.

Yuri had spread everything out across the kitchen counter and had countless little sketches of his movements. All of it was done in attempt to figure out what the problem was, but it wasn't proving effective even after a few days worth of it. He wished it was more like the course work he had spread across his bed where with only a few inputs to an equation he could get an accurate solution every time. Emotions couldn't be calculated though.

There were too many inputs and varying conditions that it was impossible to come up with an equation to make it all make sense. No amount of examining videos would provide him with the answer he was looking for.

After a while he finally gave up on it and flopped down on a chair with his head and his arms lolling off the sides of it. There wasn't anything he could do. He had been sitting in that position long enough for both Empress and Makkachin to come sit on him when he heard the front door unlock.

"Don't you have practice?" Yuri asked without turning his gaze from the ceiling. "It's too early for you to be back."

He heard the sound of a bag being set down and shoes removed before he got an answer. "I took a short day," Yuuri appeared in his field of view. "The others are on break too and I thought you could use the company."

"Is it not clear how much I'm enjoying myself right now?" Yuri rolled his eyes. "The time of my life, it has literally never been better."

"Ah, well then I guess I'd better leave you alone then," Yuuri said. "Wouldn't want to impede upon your clearly very important plans for the day. Guess I'll have to run errands all alone in Russia."

Yuri knew it was an obvious ploy to get him to do something other than mope around the house, but he couldn't turn it down. "Okay fine," he sighed. "Though I know you know enough Russian to manage. What are you planning on doing anyway?"

"You'll just have to see," Yuuri told him. "Be ready to go in ten minutes. I'm going to change and take my shot and then I'm leaving."

Yuri begrudgingly moved from the chair, careful to disturb the animals as little as possible. He would have preferred to know where he was going, but the prospect of actually doing something overrode him not wanting to do something without knowing exactly what would happen.

Since he had just been sitting around all day he hadn't bothered to get dressed so he quickly switched out his pajamas for regular clothes and pulled on his typical two jackets on top. A knock sounded at his door a few minutes later.

"You ready?" Yuuri poked his head around the doorframe.

"Yeah, I was just cleaning up these papers," Yuri set his stack of course work on his nightstand. "I've been catching up on my online courses."

"I'd be interested to see what you're working on when we get back," Yuuri told him, grabbing his coat off the coat rack.

"It's nothing interesting," Yuri shrugged as he grabbed his shoes. "I take a history class in Russian, an English class to keep my proficiency high, a general science class, and a math class. It's nothing too complicated just basics."

"I'd still like to see it," Yuuri said. "Now let's head out, we're taking the car."

"You can drive?" Yuri had never seen him do so before.

"I can, I just prefer not to because it makes me really anxious," Yuuri told him. "It's much faster than trying to take the bus though."

"Okay," Yuri nodded, as he buckled his seatbelt. "I'll be quiet so you can focus on driving."

Yuuri smiled in gratitude before pulling out of the driveway. Yuri couldn't quite figure out where they were headed, it wasn't toward the grocery store where they always got their groceries from and it wasn't towards the rink either, so he wasn't sure where it was since he didn't go much elsewhere most of the time.

Once the car pulled to a stop Yuri recognized the building. "Why are we stopping at the courthouse?" He asked.

"Short detour," Yuuri said. "You can stay in the car I just have to drop off some paperwork real quick. I was going to wait until Vitya gets back in two days but it's on the way to where we are going so I thought I'd make the stop. It should only take ten minutes at the most."

"You don't need me to come translate or anything, do you?" Yuri asked. "I know your Russian isn't strong enough for a legal conversation."

"Oh no," Yuuri dismissed the suggestion with a wave of his hand. "I just have to drop something off," he held up a manila file folder. "Some papers regarding my residency, I'll be right back."

"Alright then," Yuri pulled out his phone and opened up a game on it to pass the time. He mindlessly tapped at the screen and tried to avoid dying.

He made through a full two rounds of the game before getting a bit impatient. It had been longer than ten minutes already but he didn't want to try and hunt Yuuri down since the building was rather large. He figured Yuuri would contact him if he did end up needing someone to translate so he just opened a new round and began to play his game again.

It was another half an hour before Yuuri showed back up and climbed into the car with an even thicker folder than he had left with. "Sorry," he apologized. "They wanted to fingerprint me and there's a whole other set of papers for me to look over. I'll have Vitya look through them with me and I might have Lilia help me as well."

"I was just playing a game," Yuri shrugged. "It was no big deal to wait. Will you tell where we're going now?"

Yuuri set the folder in the backseat and shook his head. "You'll find out soon enough, it's something you will like though so don't worry."

It was another fifteen minute drive before they stopped again. Yuri didn't even bother looking to see where they were before turning to Yuuri and asking, "Are we here now?"

"Why don't you decide for yourself," Yuuri gestured toward the building they were stopped in front of.

A smile spread across Yuri face once he recognized where they were. "The animal shelter," he grinned. "What are we doing here?"

"Volunteering," Yuuri told him. "Vitya and I have done it before and it's a really nice shelter. No-kill and everything, though they tend to be short staffed and need helping hands. I know you've been a few times before so I thought you might enjoy this better than moping around the house."

Yuri nodded eagerly. "I haven't been here in a while but I enjoyed it the last time I came. I guess you do have good ideas sometimes."

"I'm not entirely useless," Yuuri offered up a smile as he climbed out of the car. "I've been here enough times that they should recognize me, but you might need to explain what we are here for if I can't."

"Yeah, sure," Yuri said, he was perfectly capable of that.

Though it turned out he didn't end up having to help out much. It seemed that Yuuri had been to the shelter enough times to get through the little bit of Russian he had to speak to get themselves inside and volunteering.

"When did your Russian improve?" Yuri asked. "You didn't have as terrible an accent as usual."

"I can talk about animals really well," Yuuri said. "Aside from that and a few other topics I really do only speak enough to get by. Normally I look confused enough that people either try and help me in English or stay away from me."

"Makes sense," Yuri nodded. "I'm gonna go help with the cats, you can take the canine beasts over there."

Yuri turned and headed back towards where the cats were kept. It was a fairly sizable shelter and he had been given a simple rundown of what he needed to do. Most of it was pretty simple since he was used to taking care of a cat. He emptied a few litter boxes and filled food dishes, tasks made more difficult by the occasional cat they came and wound its way through his legs. Of course he had to stop and scratch its ears every time it did that.

The tasks he had been assigned were fairly easy to complete and it didn't take him very long before he as able to go play with the cats.  The cat that had been following him around during his tasks was very affectionate and demanded his attention once he was free to give it. It was solid black except for its back right paw which was white.

"Aren't you just a sweetheart?" Yuri cooed at the cat as he scratched its ears again. "You're a pretty kitty, you're a good kitty. You can't tell Empress about this or she'll get jealous. You're really soft, I bet you know that. But you are going to have to let me see the others."

The cat blinked at him slowly and he did so in return. He could've sworn that it understood every word he was saying by the way it looked at him. How he managed to get to the next room without being tripped he did not know. The cat stopped just outside the door and looked at him as if it were standing guard. Yuri laughed and stepped inside to see the other cats.

Some of them were very skittish and immediately darted off to hide upon hearing his footsteps, others were curious and came over to greet him. The room he was in was a playroom where the cats were allowed to freely roam as long as they got along with the other cats and weren't sick, so there were about ten or twelve cats there in total but he couldn't be sure on how many.

He took a seat off to one side of the room and picked up a little feather toy to play with any of the cats who were interested. Since there were so many cats in the room it seemed that there was usually at least one who was willing to chase after the toy and after he had been in the room for a while even the more shy cats began to come up to him.

At one point two cats leapt for the toy at the same time and ended up in a confused pile on the floor, he laughed at this so hard that he didn't notice the door opening and somebody stepping in. "Ah, you two are fine," Yuri smiled at the two cats who hadn't yet bothered to stand back up. "I have harder falls than that everyday, at least this floor is somewhat soft and warm."

"You are good with them," a voice sounded from behind him and Yuri snapped his head back to see an elderly woman inside the entryway of the room with the black cat from earlier in her arms. "You are that boy who is volunteering, no?"

Yuri froze for second before standing and facing her. "Yes," he nodded. "Is there something else I'm supposed to be doing? Sorry, I got carried away playing with the cats."

"No, no, don't worry," she waved a hand. "You did an excellent job on your tasks and the cats could use the company. I'm sure you could too. You seem like such a lonely boy."

"I guess," Yuri shrugged, she seemed like she was very wise and knew what she was talking about. "I'm Yuri, is there anything you need me to do?"

"I know who you are," she peered at him. "You're that little skater boy everybody makes a fuss about, you sit, I'll pull up a chair. Hold Mitten for me."

The black cat with the white paw was pressed into his arms and he was guided into the chair he had just stood up from. Yuri hardly dared to move and was in the exact same position when the old lady came back.

"He likes you," the old lady said, taking the cat back once she had sat down. "Mitten here is an excellent judge of character. There aren't many he would let hold him."

"Is he your cat?" Yuri asked, smiling slightly at the praise.

"No," she shook her head. "He's a shelter cat, he's been here for a while. He's a sweetheart but he doesn't like just anybody, and his coloration doesn't make him very popular due to superstition. But you I and both know it's what's on the inside that counts, not what's on the outside."

"That's true, but I'm not sure I know what you mean," he tipped his head to the side inquisitively.

"Yes you do," she shot him a piercing look.

Yuri waited for her to add onto that but she didn't. "Okay I guess."

"Mitten is a good cat, he just doesn't fit the image of what is expected," she said. "Much like you young man, you're a strong person, a kind person. I can see it in your eyes, you're a fighter."

"That's what my best friend said to me the day I met him," his mouth quirked up slightly. "He told me I had the eyes of a soldier."

"You do. Just like I do, just like Mitten here does too," she told him. "My name is Olga, but most of the volunteers call me babushka."

Yuri wasn't quite sure what she meant by that but he nodded anyway. "Do you work here then?" He asked.

"My daughter runs the place," Olga said. "I'm so proud of who she grew up to be, you be excellent to your parents kid."

"I don't have parents," he shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"Nonsense," she shook her head at him. "You think family must be blood? No, that man who brought you and the silver headed one who usually accompanies him, that's family. They speak of you often."

"Do they really?" Yuri scrunched his eyebrows. "There's not much to say about me."

"You should think more highly of yourself kid," she said. "Most of the country at least knows who you are, even me the old cat lady. Of course your parents have a lot to say about you."

"They aren't my parents," Yuri frowned. "Even if I wanted them to be, which I don't, that doesn't make them my parents. My parents didn't want me."

Olga leaned forward and placed Mitten back in his arms. "You're hurting from that and you're afraid to let any parental figures in because it could happen again," she told him. "I understand, it happened to me too and healing from that was a difficult experience. But you have to allow yourself to grow, you have to let people in. That silver headed one, he understands too, let him help you."

Yuri glanced at the ground and scratched Mitten behind his ears, he hated it when people were right about that sort of thing. "Why would Victor understand, everything goes right for him. It's not fair."

"Life isn't fair and it never will be," she stated. "That's all there is to it. And he does understand, he had similar issues to yours. That's why he can be a good help to you."

"I know," he sighed, he knew that Victor hadn't had a perfect life but it still looked like it. "I don't need help though."

"Come with me," Olga stood up and gestured for him to follow. "Set Mitten down, he will follow if he wants to."

Yuri did as he was told and followed her out of the play room and down to another room toward the end of the hallway. Once he stepped inside he could hear the soft mewling of what had to be kittens. "Wash your hands boy," Olga pointed at a sink after she had washed her own.

He nodded and turned on the sink, wincing slightly once he had the soap on his hands—it was a bit harsher than what he was used to and made his hands tingle. "So what do you need me to do in here?" He asked.

"We had a litter brought in the other day that was abandoned by the mother," she walked around him and over to a cardboard box that was under a heat lamp. "They should be almost a week old, none of them have opened their eyes yet."

"They're so small," Yuri gasped softly once he peeked inside.  "And there are six of them."

"There were seven when we found them, we don't know if it was already gone or if it passed after arriving but we couldn't save one," Olga gave a small frown. "But that's how it goes, we can't save every animal that's brought in through that door. That doesn't stop us from trying though. We need to feed these little guys, will you help?"

"Yes, of course," he nodded. "Just tell me what to do."

Olga picked the smallest kitten in the litter and gently placed it onto Yuri's outstretched palm and positioned his fingers so that he was properly supporting it. "You're going to hold them like this so that they won't get hurt and hold a bottle in your other hand to feed them with. We want to go fast enough that all the kittens get fed in a timely manner."

Yuri grabbed one of the bottles she had gestured to and began to feed the kitten in his hand. By the time the small fluff ball was done with it, his content grin had spread across his face entirely. He was reluctant to set it down and even more so once it started mewling softly, but he gently lowered it back into the box and lifted out another kitten to feed.

He didn't mind that Olga managed to feed the other four kittens in the time it took him to feed only two, he was fairly impressed by that. "You're really good at this," he lowered the last kitten back into the box.

"I've been at this a lot longer than you have been alive young man," Olga shot him a knowing smile. Yuri had an uncanny feeling she was talking about more than just kittens.

"I hope they all get adopted when they're old enough," he peered back into the box where the kittens were all curling up to sleep after their meal.

"I imagine they will," she told him. "They need good homes, good families so they can grow up well. A loving family is just about the best thing we can hope to provide them with. Soon they'll be out and exploring like every curious cat does, I just want them to have a safe place to return to." Once again Yuri had a feeling she wasn't talking about kittens.

"I'd adopt one myself if I could," he said. "As long as it would get along with another cat and a dog. They're all so sweet."

"You come back in a couple months, you're a good kid, if you will take good care of one I'll give you pick of the litter," Olga set a hand on his shoulder as if he were a grandson who had brought her great pride. "Feel free to come help out whenever you want, you're always welcome here."

Yuri could see Yuuri out of the corner of his eye and figured that Olga had known it was time for him to leave. "Thank you babushka, I'll be sure to come back."

"I'll be watching for you on the television boy, make Russia proud," she waved cheerily and walked back in the direction of the play room.

Yuri joined back up with Yuuri with a smile on his face. "I guess that was a little better than sitting at home, marginally."

"I'll just have to tell Vitya that we don't need to bring you back then," Yuuri heaved a dramatic sigh, a flair that was clearly picked up from one Victor Nikiforov. "What a pity, we thought it would cheer you up."

"I mean, I guess it wouldn't kill me to go another time," Yuri said. "The lady I worked with was very kind to me, a bit strange though."

"Olga," Yuuri smiled as he said the name. "She's very sweet, both Vitya and I adore her. Lovely lady to chat with even though there's a bit of a language barrier between us. She's a retired psychologist."

"That explains a lot," Yuri nodded at the information before falling silent as Yuuri turned out of the parking lot. It really did explain a lot, especially how she seemed to be able to read him like a book. Though he still didn't quite understand what she had meant by sone of the things she had said.

He leaned against the door as they drove away from the shelter, a smile still perched on his lips. Even though he knew it was frigid outside, he still felt warmth from the few rays of sun shining in through the winding and landing on his cheek. It was a very peaceful way to travel.

"Just one more stop," Yuuri said without sparing a glance in his direction. "And then we'll be home for the day."

"Where to this time?" Yuri asked. "Will it take long?"

"The pharmacy," Yuuri answered. "And no it wont be long at all, I have to pick up some prescriptions is all."

Yuri nodded and leaned back in his seat, content to know that he would be home to cuddle with his cat again soon even though she would be jealous about the scent of other cats on him. He didn't even bother getting out of the car when they stopped even though Yuuri warned him that it might be a while. Instead he leaned his seat back a bit and closed his eyes, once again enjoying the slight warmth from the sun.

He guessed it was about fifteen minutes before Yuuri came back and plopped a few bags down onto his lap. "Careful not to drop those," Yuuri cautioned. "There's glass in there."

"What kind of medicine bottle is glass?" Yuri asked.

"The testosterone kind, I get a somewhat large vial instead of having to pick one up every other week," Yuuri said. "That one lasts me a few months."

"Oh," Yuri supposed that made sense. "And the other bags?"

"My prescriptions for anxiety, very important I keep that one filled," Yuuri backed out of the parking space and onto the road. "And Vitya's medicine as well, were on the same refill schedule so it cuts down on trips to the pharmacy."

Yuri nodded and went silent until they arrived back home and he handed the medications over to Yuuri, taking care not to drop any of the bags. "I think I'm going to take a nap," Yuri yawned. "I'm tired."

"Go ahead Yura," Yuuri ruffled his hair and smiled at him. "I'll get you up for dinner, don't forget to take your binder off before lying down."

"I won't," Yuri rolled his eyes as he opened the door to his room. "You're such a mother hen sometimes."

"Only to you my boy," he could hear the smile in Yuuri's voice.

"That's a lie and we both know it, also you're not my parent," he pulled the door shut with a definitive click and began shedding his many layers. Once his jackets were back where they belonged and his binder was removed he tugged his shirt over his head and flopped face first onto his bed.

The next couple days slipped by without incident. Yuri spent the hours lounging around the house in various positions, sludging his way through a history paper that he very much did not want to write. He only took that class because it was required of him.

Since he was home alone he took the opportunity to play his music as loudly as he wanted without eliciting any strange looks. He would have definitely preferred to spend his time skating at the rink, but all in all it wasn't a terrible way to spend a few days.

Once Victor got back from Italy things got more interesting, especially since he was no longer the only one with a skating ban at the house. Between the two of them he figured they were just about to drive Yuuri up the wall, not that Yuuri ever commented on it.

During the few days he had been home alone for the most part, Yuri found a favorite patch of sunlight to curl up in during the afternoons. If he got lucky and it wasn't overcast outside, it was a nice warm spot to nap or work on homework in.

"Yura!" Yuri heard Yuuri call from the other room. "Could you do me a favor?"

Yuri stepped out into the living room where Yuuri was sitting with Makkachin on his lap. Victor was in the kitchen stirring something over the stove. "What do you need?" Yuri asked.

"Makka needs his nails trimmed down, they've been snagging in the rug," Yuuri explained. "Could you grab me the clippers we have for him?"

"Uh, sure," Yuri said. "Where are they?"

"If you go in the bathroom in my room there's a cabinet on the wall, a medicine cabinet," Yuuri told him. "Open that up, it should be on the second shelf."

"Okay," Yuri nodded and headed that way. He didn't go in Victor and Yuri's room very often butit was fairly similar to his just bigger and with a more sizable bathroom, it was also less messy than his tended to be. The bed was made meticulously and there was a notable lack of clothing on the floor.

Their bathroom was clean as well which a bit odd considering that the two of them both dislikes cleaning bathrooms and would hold playful competitions to see who would take that task every few weeks. There were a couple cabinets in the bathroom and the first one Yuri checked only held towels.

It took one more try for him to find the right one. The cabinet was surprisingly full for only two people using it but a good half of it seemed to consist almost entirely of little shampoo bottles from hotels. The clippers were sitting in the back corner of the second shelf, exactly where Yuuri had said they would be.

The cabinet was placed a bit high on the wall and Yuri had to stand on his toes in order to reach the back of it, which caused him to scrape his hand against a bottle when he snatched the clippers. He didn't notice how the bottle wobbled back and forth and slowly but surely pitched towards the end of the shelf. He didn't notice any of that, in fact, until the bottle hurtled to the ground and shattered on the tile. And he jumped.

And his left foot landed directly on the glass shards.

"Ow!" Yuri more screamed than shouted intelligibly. "Fuck, help! Victor. Yuuri. Papa, dad! Fuck."

Yuri didn't remember crumpling to the ground, but somehow he did, missing the pile of glass shards narrowly. Though if the stinging pain in his hand was anything to go by, he hadn't completely managed to miss the glass.

"Are you okay?" Yuuri asked, both he and Victor having rushed in at the commotion. "Vitya you get him up and I'll find something to clean this mess with."

"I'm going to pick you up," Victor said before gently lifting him and setting him on the countertop. "You didn't hit your head did you?"

"No, but I have glass in my foot and maybe in my palm too," Yuri said, his voice much calmer than it had been moments ago.

"I'm sorry, I should've warned you that there was glass in there," Yuuri apologized from where he knelt on the floor. "It was mine anyway."

"Fuck, that was your vial of T, wasn't it?" Yuri frowned. He almost found it ironic that he had hurt himself on something he desperately wanted. "You just got that one."

"He's not upset," Victor brushed Yuri's hair out of his eyes. "Don't sound so worried about it, stuff breaks all the time. Remember just a month or two ago I broke his favorite mug."

"Wait that was you?" Yuuri shot an accusatory glance in Victor's direction as he stood up and dumped the glass shards into the trash. "I thought Makkachin knocked it over."

"I left it on that table in the living room and he got to it," Victor shrugged. "But let's not worry about that."

"Your not-spouse is right," Yuri agreed. "And that's a rare occurrence. My foot hurts."

"I would imagine so," Yuuri said. "And I'm afraid it's only going to hurt more before it's done with. Victor, could you grab the tweezers? We need to remove the glass."

"This is going to hurt," Victor warned, setting a hand just above Yuri's ankle. "Try not to move or you might accidentally imbed it farther in."

Yuri frowned and squeezed his eyes shut before Yuuri had even picked the tweezers up. He was still somewhat surprised from how sudden everything had been  and wasn't completely registering pain. He suspected that would change in just a moment though. As soon as he felt the cold metal brush against his skin he flinched and jerked his foot away.

"I know," Yuuri's voice was gentle as if he was speaking to a spooked animal and not a teenage boy. "But Yura, honey, you need to let us help or it will be even worse. If you let me help you this will heal up nicely, if you don't then you might not be skating for a whole lot longer."

"Okay," Yuri mumbled, forcing himself to relax his body. He couldn't risk a major injury this close to the world competition.

Yuri may or may not have let loose a string of profanities as the offending glass pieces were removed. He had read somewhere that swearing increased a person's pain tolerance but he wasn't sure he was willing to believe that. Having broken glass slowly removed from his body hurt just as much as he would have expected it to. 

"Check his hand too, love," Victor said, disregarding Yuri's obvious displeasure at the whole ordeal. "It looks like there's some blood at the base of his thumb."

Yuri held out his hand without further prompting and guessed by the press of metal followed by a sharp stinging that there was a shard in his palm as well. A few seconds passed without any additional pain so he slowly cracked open his eyes. "Are you done?"

"It just needs to be washed out now," Yuuri smiled at him. "You ended up with a good portion of that vial in your foot, we'll have to take you to the care clinic in case it needs stitches."

Yuri wrinkled his nose at that notion which elicited a laugh from Victor. "I doubt you'll need many. If you're careful about it you should be mostly healed up within a week."

"Now I trust that you can clean the cuts out on your own," Yuuri said. "We will call ahead and let the clinic know that we're coming."

"I hate everything," Yuri grumbled. He waited until they walked out before turning on the sink and shoving his hand under the faucet. It did not feel good at all but it was fast to clean.

It was a bit more awkward trying to clean the cuts in his foot while balancing himself on the counter top but he managed. The water ran red then pink then finally clear before he cleaned the injury with soap. By the time he finished his hand and his foot stung and his teeth were grit in pain.

There was some gauze in the medicine cabinet lying within easy reach so he loosely wrapped some around his foot and hobbled out to the living room, leaning heavily on the wall for support. "Let me help you," Victor practically picked him up as soon as he saw him.

"Here are your coats you two," Yuuri made sure both of them put them on before leading the small group out to the car and helping Yuri into the back seat.

Yuri was too grumpy to say anything at all. He couldn't believe he had cut open his foot only a few days before he was going to be allowed to skate again. His hand he could deal with but his foot was another story. He glowered out the window the whole way to the clinic and shot a dirty look at anyone who dared look at him once he was sat in the waiting room.

It was the same clinic he always came to be it for a cold or a drug test and he certainly wasn't happy to be there when he should've been at home. "You'll be fine," Yuuri squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "The cuts didn't look too deep at all, I bet this will only add another week to your skate ban."

"Whatever," Yuri grumbled. "I should've paid more attention, this was a stupid way to get hurt."

Neither Victor nor Yuuri said anything further until it came time for him to go back. "Would you like us to come with you?" Victor asked.

Yuri merely nodded and let himself be drug back into a room. "Now Ms. Plisetskaya, what exactly is the problem?"

"It's Mr. Plisetsky," Yuri was not in the mood to stomach any misgendering. "I stepped on broken glass which you should already know considering that it's written on that paper you're holding."

Yuri tuned out what she said after that, he figured if it was important then somebody would get his attention for him. He knew it was going to hurt and s didn't think there would be much beyond that he needed to know. He wished the cuts had been a little shallower though so he could have just avoided the visit.

He was used to pain in his feet so it didn't seem especially painful to have the deepest cuts stitched closed, he didn't even take much notice to them being disinfected, instead he scrolled through his phone aimlessly hitting like on most of the cat pictures he came across.

"It's all done miss, I left these two with information on how to care for it until the stitches fall out, if anything goes wrong or they tear you may have to come back," the nurse managed to get his attention.

"Don't call me miss," Yuri frowned. "I'm a guy."

"Your papers say that-"

"What his papers say doesn't matter," Victor cut the nurse off. "He told you what he wished to be addressed by, you should respect that. Thank you for your help good bye."

Yuri was glad Victor had spoken up for him because he likely would've gotten himself into trouble had he opened his mouth to do so. The injury and the pain it caused him did nothing to lighten his mood.

The only good thing to come out of it was the mug of hot cocoa prepared just the way he liked it and the nice cuddle he had with his cat as soon as they arrived home. Even the dog noticed he was feeling off and made it his duty to sit guard at Yuri's feet as he watched whatever crappy movie happened to be showing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life has been absolutely kicking my ass but here you go, this is the best I could muster up for you guys. I'm still very much on hiatus and I doubt there will be another update until I get everything figured out but I thought since I had this done I might as well post it. 
> 
> As always please provide me with feedback on it, I really need the motivation to get through the next chapter


	26. Of Boredom and Arguments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I promised not to abandon this. Sorry if the quality is lacking. 
> 
> There is very brief (like one sentence) non-graphic mention of last physical abuse in the scene where Victor and Yuri are talking

Yuri's sentence was extended another two weeks or until his stitches dissolved, he was hoping for a week at the most but he knew he couldn't rush it or he would risk having to withdraw from Worlds and that wasn't an option. Despite the short amount of time the sun graced the sky, the days felt longer. This was only exacerbated by the long days Victor and Yuuri spent at the rink, ceaselessly preparing Yuuri for Four Continents which was in just over a week.

There was only so much he could do while under strict orders to not stress his injury: no running, no ballet, and absolutely no skating. He was bored to say the least. There was only so many times he could throw a ball in the yard for Makkachin before the cold set in and both of them went inside shivering.

The next best thing came in the form of countless videos ranging from his skating to funny cats to integrals of summations. He knew he had to do something about it once he started calling calculus videos entertaining, which is how he found himself dangling upside down from the couch attempting to Skype call Otabek.

It took three tries for the call to go through and even then it rang a good five times before it was picked up on the other end.

"I'm bored," Yuri stayed as soon as the connection was clear. "I haven't been on the ice in over a week and I think I might die."

"Well I've hardly been off the ice in the past week," Otabek told him, completely unfazed by the unexpected call. "There's very important international competition coming up, you may have heard of it?"

"Shit," Yuri smacked his forehead. "Of course you're practicing for Four Continents. This is a bad time isn't it?"

"Marginally," Otabek shifted so Yuri could see the rink in the background. "I'm on snack break," he rattled a bag of trail mix.

"Ugh, I wish I was skating. You're lucky," Yuri let his hands fall to the ground. "I've got at least four more days off, most likely more than that. Can I die from this?"

"Yes, definitely," Otabek nodded, his face completely serious. "The first person in history to die from standing only on solid ground, a real tragedy. Think they'll let me speak at the funeral?"

"You're supposed to sympathize with me," Yuri stuck his lower lip out in a pout. "This is about my well being."

"Well if I know what's best for my well being, I'd best be getting back to practice now," Otabek glanced back to where his coach was yelling offscreen. "I'll call you back when I'm done in an hour or two."

"Fine," Yuri huffed. "I am owed genuine conversation time."

"Don't worry you'll get it soldier boy," Otabek smirked ever so slightly. "And you might want to sit up, your face is as red as your bra," and with that comment Otabek cut the connection.

Yuri frowned and glanced to see that he was in fact wearing a cherry red sports bra and that his shirt had practically fallen off from the position he was in. "Stupid thing," he grumbled as he righted himself.

Now that he had nothing to do for at least another hour the boredom hit him full force once again. All he wanted to do was lie down somewhere and groan about how utterly terrible his situation was, but he knew there was no point to that when nobody else could hear it. For once he found himself regretting not having any friends outside of skating.

He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his contacts just to check, sure enough there was nobody for him to talk to. This did not come as a surprise, the last time he regularly talked to people outside of the sport he was twelve.

Once his contact list proved fruitless he navigated over to social media and absently scrolled. Normally he competed in a few small competitions between Europeans and Worlds, but Yakov had decided to have him sit those out this season to let his body rest. News of his injury had been kept from the press for the most part so there wasn't much content about him in the media or from fans.

For the first time in a few months there seemed to be a lull in the media coverage surrounding him. It was a strange but welcome break. Half an hour of scrolling only uncovered one gossip article about him and there wasn't anything new in it, just the usual speculations about his gender and potential love life. He assumed this was because he wasn't set to have another public competition for over a month. There was other, more easily accessed gossip to be spread around.

Yuri soon found himself bored with his phone so he tossed it aside and took to pacing back and forth. Both Makkachin and Empress had grown used to his restlessness and didn't react when he would suddenly make noise or move around. His boredom had an almost physical presence at this point, it slowed down time and made him painfully aware of every movement he took. He was hyperaware of the bending of his joints and the faint beating of his heart in his ears. Each time he blinked he felt his eyelashes brush together. The worst part was his attention being drawn to his breathing. _In. Out. In. Out. In. Out_. It wasn't long before the steady flow of oxygen began to feel forced, almost as if the air was suffocating him.

He ignored the twinge of pain in his foot and scrambled out the door in hopes that the fresh air would stop the feeling in his lungs. The plan definitely worked, though he wasn't sure if it was the air or its temperature that did it for him. It took two seconds for him to realize that this was a bad idea. He hadn't been planning on leaving the house all day so he was only wearing a loose tshirt and a pair of boxers.

It wasn't the coldest weather he had ever experienced, but it was below zero and the ground was unpleasant against his feet. The good part of it was that the cement was so cold on the sole of his foot that he couldn't feel the ache of the injury.

He stood outside trembling, the weight of the cold bending him as snow bent the branches of nearby trees. It wasn't until his teeth were chattering that he took the few steps back into the house and immediately found a blanket for himself. That had not been his brightest idea.

Once he stopped shivering, Yuri spent a couple minutes looking for his phone, eventually finding it underneath the couch. How it landed on the floor without him noticing was beyond him. Sadly there were no messages on his phone even though it had been just over an hour since he had called Otabek. He was so bored he could hardly bear to wait another second much less another hour.

The cold air had worked to take his mind off his breathing, but it had done nothing beyond that. He could still feel time crawling by like molasses and hear his heartbeat measuring it out. The returning ache of his foot also served to show the passing of time.

He was beyond bored and Otabek wasn't calling anytime soon, and the animals were sleeping, and daytime television was shit. "This sucks," Yuri grumbled aloud, his voice causing Makkachin to perk his ears. "Not talking to you you worthless mutt." He huffed a sigh and slowly waddled back to the couch. He flopped down on it, using the armrest to tip himself backward since no one was there to yell at him about it.

"Hello ceiling," he glared upwards. "My good old friend." He over enunciated each syllable the way he would when he used to attend speech therapy the years after his parents had abandoned him. "What do you have for me today? Oh that's right, nothing. You're a fucking wall. I'm talking to a fucking wall," he laughed bitterly and fell silent.

Twenty minutes later, by his estimate, a key turned and the front door opened. "Hi Yuri," Yuuri walked in, leaving the door open behind him. "You look entertained," he gestured up at the ceiling which Yuri was still glaring at.

"What are you doing back so early?" Yuri sat up in confusion. "It's not evening yet, shouldn't you be at practice?"

Yuuri smiled a tight lipped smile and started walking toward his bedroom. "Yes, I should be." The lock thudded shut behind him.

Yuri glanced back and forth between the locked door and the front door that still hung open. An unpleasant breeze was making its way into the living room and he didn't have a blanket with him. "Yuuri, you left the door op-" he cut himself off before finishing the sentence.

Something about the situation felt wrong. It was the middle of the day so Yuuri should still be at practice, they always shut the door behind them when they came in, and Yuuri and Victor had left in the same vehicle that morning. There was only one conclusion from that. Victor had to be outside.

Yuri swung his legs off the couch and hopped onto his good foot, limping forward a few steps to grab the set crutches he was supposed to be using. It was much easier to get around on them, but his skin was sensitive and they rubbed it red after a while. He got to the door much faster than he had earlier.

The car was sitting in the driveway still idling and Victor was sitting in the drivers seat, head in hands. Yuri made his way to the passenger door, careful not to let the crutches land on the icy patches along the way. After a few close calls, he made it to the car and pulled open the door. It took an awkward hop and wiggle to get himself and the crutches into the vehicle.

"Yuuri?" Victor asked without looking up. Yuri could hear the slight difference in pronunciation and knew who he was addressing. "Thought you were done?" He sounded miserable.

"No, it's just me," Yuri reached out to pat Victor on the back but stopped a few inches shy and quickly withdrew his hand. "Why are you home so early?"

"I don't know," Victor pulled his face out of his hands, his expression unreadable. "I shouldn't be."

"Is Yuuri mad at you?" Yuri asked. "He hardly said a word to me. What happened?"

"I said I don't know," a hint of anger laced itself into Victor's voice. "I don't know," this one was quieter, broken almost.

"Well something happened," Yuri said. "Both of you are acting weird. I'm the one with an excuse to act differently," he pointed to his foot. "The two of you are supposed to be disgustingly in love."

"We are," Victor said, the sound muffled by his hands once again. "I am."

"This is weird," Yuri said. "I don't know what to say."

Victor was quiet for a long while but eventually sat up straight. "Buckle up," he said. "Lets go on a drive."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Yuri looked back at the house. "Don't you have more important things to do?"

"Yes," Victor held onto the word for longer than necessary. He shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the driveway.

"Where are you going?" Yuri hurried to latch his seat belt as the car hit a pothole and jolted him into the window. "What are you doing? This isn't safe."

Victor slowed to a reasonable speed and eased the car out the neighborhood, navigating toward the highway without seeming to think about it. He stared straight ahead, knuckles white around the steering wheel.

"Victor where are we going?" Yuri asked again, not expecting an answer out of him.

Yuri watched as the needle on the accelerator steadily creeped higher and higher until every other car on the road became a blur behind them. The traffic signs told him nothing of a potential destination and he never paid enough attention to the roads to have any clue where they were headed. If it weren't for the determination set in Victor's eyes, he would think it was aimless.

The longer they drove for, the more tension Yuri saw build up in Victor. His shoulders slunk up toward his ears, his already white knuckles became whiter, he grit his jaw. Once the tension built to the point Yuri was sure it would snap, Victor took a deep breath and navigated off the highway and into an unfamiliar neighborhood.

"Where are we?" Yuri asked. "I've never been here before." Victor still didn't respond, but he did spare a glance out the corner of his eye.

They drove deeper into the neighborhood, twisting and turning through the streets as the houses got bigger and the fences got taller. Victor pulled the car over in a sudden stop in front of what was perhaps the biggest house with the tallest fence. "We're here," he said, speaking for the first time since leaving the driveway.

"Where is here?" Yuri asked, staring out the window toward the house. There were no signs of life. The lawn was meticulously groomed, there were no decorations, there weren't even any tire marks or oil stains. It didn't look lived in.

"I grew up here," Victor curled his lip in distaste. "Awful isn't it?"

"It's so...lifeless," Yuri said. "Why are we here?"

Victor sighed and ran a hand through his hair, disrupting the loose braid it had been pulled into. "Sometimes I have to remind myself," he paused and took a few breaths, "how lucky I am."

"I'm not sure I understand why you came here for that," Yuri was confused. "Or why you chose now of all times."

"It's always looked like that," Victor said, disregarding Yuri's comment. "Perfectly manicured lawn, shining windows, not a twig out of place."

"But on the inside?" Yuri asked. "Is it like that too?"

"It's similar," Victor nodded. "They keep everything so tidy, so clean. Like a dirty house will tarnish their reputation. I suppose that's what I was, tarnish."

"Me too," Yuri sighed. "That's why mine got rid of me, but you knew that. Why do you come back?"

"So I don't forget," Victor said. "All I ever do is look, I left my key in the lock all those years ago. I couldn't go back if I wanted to."

"You don't want to though," Yuri said. "We should leave, you look uncomfortable," he urged. The tension hadn't faded from Victor's expression in the slightest.

"My father was an alcoholic," Victor started to tap on the steering wheel. "A lawyer by trade. Whenever a case went poorly he'd hit the booze and whenever that didn't work he'd hit me. But I was always dancing and skating so nobody ever wondered where the bruises came from."

"That's...terrible," Yuri stared at his lap. He had no idea why Victor was telling him this.

"My mother never loved him and she never loved me," Victor continued. "I'm not sure she ever loved anyone. Neither of them wanted children, I think I only existed to carry on the family name. My father wanted me to be a lawyer like him, but if he had cared he wouldn't have relied on his mother to raise me. She lived here with us until she died," he paused, sighing at the memory. "It was shortly after my first Olympics, she left me everything."

Yuri nodded, he didn't want to speak in case Victor wasn't done yet. Everyone had been telling him that he had a lot in common with Victor, but this was the first time he was hearing so from the man himself.

"Almost everybody in this country knows the name Nikiforov, and it all because of me," Victor said. "Sometimes I wish I had skated under a different name."

"It's your name," Yuri said. "You made it your own, it's not theirs anymore."

"I know," Victor heaved a sigh and straightened his back. "I'm taking Yuuri's name when we get married though. He wants to take mine or hyphenate, but I want to be Victor Katsuki."

"Victor, why-" Yuri cut himself off as he tried to formulate the question. "What happened at the rink today? You and Yuuri both seem upset."

"It's my fault." Victor put the car into drive and started making his way out of the neighborhood without sparing the house another glance. "We got into an argument over something frivolous the other day and I can't seem to drop it."

"I haven't heard you fighting though?" Yuri furrowed his brow. He couldn't remember any signs of tension between the two, but he hadn't seen much of them the past few days.

"It wasn't really a fight," Victor said. "At least not at first. Not until today. It was a bad morning. I overslept which means Yuuri overslept, we were out of eggs and that protein powder he likes so breakfast was a mess, he forgot his shot and his medication, I forgot my medication. We didn't go to the rink."

"Why not?" Yuri asked. He was a bit surprised that he had slept through all of that, usually they were loud in the mornings.

"I don't know," Victor's grip tightened on the steering wheel again. "We were in the parking lot ready to get out, everybody else was already inside, but we didn't go in. I was caught up in my mind and couldn't get out. The same thought was playing on repeat and I couldn't think about anything else until I talked about it. That's when it became a fight."

"What are you even fighting about?" Yuri asked. They were quickly approaching their own neighborhood again.

"Nothing important," Victor sighed. "Certainly nothing important enough to be angry about."

Yuri shrugged. "I don't know then. Go apologize to him. You're adults, I'm sure you can figure this out."

Victor was quiet until they were in the driveway again. "Sorry Yuri," he looked him in the eye. "I shouldn't have drug you with me or burdened you with my problems."

Yuri unbuckled and opened the door. "You're human," he said. "Of course you have problems. I was dying of boredom anyway."

"You go inside," Victor made a shooing motion. "I need a minute."

Yuri hopped down on his good foot and pulled his crutches free from where he had wedged them. "Don't be all day, it's freezing out here."

"I'm Russian," came Victor's muffled response as Yuri slammed the door shut.

The ice on the driveway had melted a bit more in the sun, but it was still thick enough that this served to make it even more slippery. Yuri only slipped once on the way to the door. 

The pants he was wearing didn't have pockets so he had left his phone on the couch when he went outside. He came back to a barrage of notifications. "Oh, so now I'm popular," Yuri rolled his eyes at the device, once again flopping down on the couch.

The first few notifications were texts from Otabek, those had come only a few minutes after he had left. The rest were from Yuuri, he opened those first.

**Yuuri** : Can you check on Vitya? He's acting strange   
**Yuuri** : I heard the car leave, are you with him?  
 **Yuuri** : I'm getting worried  
 **Yuuri** : You aren't in the house so I'm guessing you went with him  
 **Yuuri** : Where are you?  
 **Yuuri** : oh I found your phone on the couch sorry

"Yuuri," Yuri called at the closed door. "I'm back. Sorry to scare you, I don't have pockets so I left my phone. Are you okay?"

There was no sound from the other side of the door for a solid minute. Then there was a deep sigh followed by a shuffling sound until the door opened a second later. Yuuri looked the same as he had earlier. He was still wearing his practice clothes and his face was twisted into that pinched expression from when he had walked in. He made his way to the couch without a word and sat down.

"Victor told me about the fight," Yuri said. "He told me a lot of things. Well not about the fight, he just said that there was a fight not what it was about. So I don't anything about that."

"There isn't much to say about it," Yuuri's voice was flat. "Things happen."

Yuri heard the car start back up again in the driveway but chose to ignore it this time. "Things always happen," he shrugged. "I'm sure if it's not a big deal then you can talk it out."

Yuuri shrugged in response and turned the tv on, navigating it to the shitty channel that Yuri had seen too much of over the last few days. He once again internally cursed at himself for stepping on broken glass.

Neither of them spoke. Yuri didn't want to be the one to break the silence even though it was bothering him. The atmosphere felt itchy and thick with unease, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself by moving to his room. So he sat tucked quietly in his corner with his shoulders up to his ears.

The volume on the tv was set much lower than a comfortable listening level so he had to strain his ears to catch the same shitty jokes he heard all week. It was worse than boredom, he would gladly go back to a few hours ago if it meant getting out of this situation.

Finally the silence was broken by Victor opening the door and walking in with grocery bags lining his arms. "Hello," his grin was obviously forced. "I ran to the store to pick up some food, we were running low. This should be enough to last until we head to Korea."

"Oh good," Yuri spoke louder than he needed to. "I had to eat a banana for breakfast today and you know how much I hate banana."

"Sorry, I had the last apple for my breakfast," Victor said, still grinning that stupid forced grin that made him look constipated.

"Well if you replaced them then that's fine," Yuri wanted to scream with how awkward the room had gotten. All he could was hope they would either talk to each other or clear out soon.

Luckily enough, as soon as Victor finished unpacking the grocery bags he headed into his room and Yuuri wasn't too far behind him.

Yuri let out a sigh of relief when their bedroom door clicked shut. "Oh thank god," he muttered under his breath. "Those idiots are driving me crazy." He turned off the tv and made his way to his room, attempting to support his bad side with a crutch and carry his phone and computer in the other hand. Needless to say that didn't work out too well.

After five minutes of wrangling himself and his stuff into his room, he flopped down on his bed and pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes. He let go once stars began to dance on the back of his eyelids.

It was only late afternoon, so there was still much of the day left to burn before he could go to bed and after that awkward scene in the living room he didn't want to leave his bedroom until necessary. He still hadn't checked the texts from Otabek.

**Otabek** : hey soldier boy practice was hell   
**Otabek** : just got back to apartment im free to call now  
 **Otabek** : ???

Yuri hurried to send to a reply, hoping his friend wasn't too tired to talk.

**Yuri** : sorry, got caught up in Victor Yuuri drama  
 **Yuri** : please say you still want to talk  
 **Yuri** : I'm dying here Beka

Yuri practically shouted when the typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

**Otabek** : good timing just finished dinner I'll call

Yuri leaned over edge of his bed to grab his laptop from where it had landed when it all but skidded into the room. Once he got ahold of it and wiggled his way back into a sitting position, it only took a minute to open it. Almost as soon as it loaded, it was ringing and Yuri picked up the call to the grinning face of his best friend.

"You look happy," Yuri mirrored the grin. "What's gotten into you."

"I was talking to Jean, oh don't give me that look," he rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I was talking to Jean, you know, my boyfriend, the Canadian, your so-called rival. I was able to catch him before he went to bed, he's staying up later to slowly adjust for Four Continents."

"What about it?" Yuri cut him off, slightly impatient to see where it was going. "Did you say anything important at all or is this a pointless story about how you and your boyfriend are adorable and love each other."

"It's a pointless story," Otabek laughed. "But he is adorable, you're right. Isabella is coming to watch. We haven't all gone on a date together in a while, so that'll be fun."

"You're such a sap," Yuri laughed. "Seriously how do you live like this?"

"Like what?" Otabek laughed as well. "With love in my heart? Easy. Don't knock it til you try it."

"I have several other more important things to do with my life," Yuri said.

"Yeah," Otabek raised an eyebrow. "Like watching cat videos and learning calculus?"

"Oh shut up," Yuri rolled his eyes. "I have skating and dancing and running. And this whole gender thing that I need to deal with."

"I know soldier boy," Otabek said. "You're doing a pretty good job of it. Have you decided anything about that sponsorship offer?"

"Not yet," Yuri shook his head. "I have until Worlds to make up my mind. I've been thinking about it. It's a really good deal."

"Do you think you'll take it?" Otabek asked.

"I don't know," Yuri said. "I'm not going to get another offer like this again and it's sort of a dream come true." He paused for a bit. "But I've been so closed off about this my entire life, I'm not sure I can open up about it now. I have to be a positive role model if I take it."

"I think most sponsorships come with that clause," Otabek stated. "Profanity aside you usually are a good role model. It would hardly be any different than it is now, there's just some extra stuff that you'll talk about. You're on top of the world soldier boy. I think you know better than anyone that you can't climb Everest without an oxygen tank."

"What does that even mean?" Yuri crinkled his nose in confusion. "You can't switch on philosophical mode with a warning Beka, not everyone can translate ancient Otabek proverbs."

Otabek shook his head and laughed. "It means whatever you think it does and philosophical mode is always on, I just don't always use it."

"Well that's dumb," Yuri said. "You're supposed to be my philosophical best friend. I claimed the role of 'little shit' so someone has to make up for that."

"I'm not sure anybody can make up for that," Otabek rolled his eyes. "It's extra concentrated since you're so small."

"With reason," Yuri grumbled. "And I'm not that small."

"Keep telling yourself that," Otabek yawneduhh, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "I think I need to jjj up now. Coach will kill me if I look exhausted at practice tomorrow."

"Oh shit sorry," Yuri glanced at the time. "Its later than I thought it was. I should be getting dinner soon but that means venturing back out into a war zone. Victor and Yuuri got into an argument over something and it's really awkward."

"Ouch," Otabek flinched. "I can see why you're holed up in here then. Have you ever seen them fight before?"

  
"No," Yuri shook his head. "They're usually too busy being disgustingly in love."

"They've probably had fights before over smaller things," Otabek said. "You just haven't noticed."

"You're probably right," Yuri nodded. "It's just weird."

"I bet it is soldier boy," Otabek yawned again. "I really have to get to bed now, I'm exhausted practice today was hell."

"Okay, goodnight Beka," Yuri said. "Practice well so you can kick JJ's ass at Four Continents. No sprained ankles."

"I'll keep that in mind," Otabek smiled. "Though I can think of several other things I'd rather do with Jean's-"

"Nope," Yuri shouted. "You're not finishing that! Goodnight." He clicked the end call button as quickly as he could.

Ever since Otabek had told him he was dating JJ, his friend had gotten a lot more open. He seemed very happy and carefree beyond his somewhat stoic outer shell. Yuri was starting to think that that was what friendship was: being privileged enough to see inside the outer shell of another person.

After disconnecting, Yuri flopped onto his back, sprawling his arms and legs as far as they would go. His stomach was starting to grumble at him, but he didn't want to run into Victor and Yuuri again after how painfully awkward the brief interaction with them earlier had been. He knew both of them would be going to bed in a few hours and decided to wait until then to get himself dinner.

Unfortunately, Victor seemed to have other ideas and it wasn't ten minutes later when he banged on Yuri's door. "Yurio," he singsonged. "Come eat dinner."

"Um, I'm not hungry?" Yuri tried the excuse.

"You're a growing boy, of course you are," Victor said. "Come eat."

"Fine," Yuri sighed. "I'm coming." He slowly sat back up and scooted to the edge of his bed where he had leaned the crutch. He knew by the tone in Victor's voice that there was no way for him to get out of joining them. That didn't stop him from taking as long as he possibly could to make his way out to the table though.

Victor and Yuuri were both sitting in their usual seats but with a larger than usual gap between them, neither of them was looking at the other. Yuri took his seat, not looking forward to the meal ahead of him.

"What's for dinner?" Yuri asked, trying not to make eye contact.

"Chicken, rice, and vegetables," Yuuri said. "Victor cooked it." Victor not Vitya.

"Ah," Yuri took a bite from his plate and smiled. "Thank you." It was not good, Victor had forgotten the seasoning.

"We were talking the other day," Victor gestured toward Yuuri without looking at him. "And we realized we never asked you about Four Continents. Did you want to come and watch?"

"Your foot probably won't be good enough to skate on until after," Yuuri added. "It would give you something to do, I know you've been bored around the house."

"I have been," Yuri fidgeted with his fork. "It would be nice to go, all my friends will be there. When do you leave?"

"In a couple of days, want to get there earlier enough to adjust to the time change," Victor said. "We'll have to get your ticket soon if you're coming with us."

"I'll come," Yuri nodded. "I think I would actually die of boredom if I stay here another week without anything to do. Or at the very least I might do something to slow down the healing process."

"You really don't want to do that," Yuuri said. "I know how excited you are for Worlds, if you did something to reinjure your foot you might not get to compete."

"I know," Yuri groaned. "I've just been so bored I can hardly stand it. How do you live without having something to do every day?"

"I have a lot of movies in that cabinet," Victor pointed. "And some games that can be played by one person, there's also a video game console somewhere. I lived here on my own for a long time, there's all sorts of stuff to entertain one person."

"And you didn't think to tell me this sooner?!" Yuri shot him an accusatory glare. "I spent days sitting around staring at the ceiling."

"I also have a large collection of books," Victor smiled. "I forgot."

"You forget everything," Yuri grumbled. "You need a better memory."

"You won't have to entertain yourself much longer," Yuuri said. "Once those stitches heal up, you'll be back to practice in no time. Then you might be wishing for a day of boredom. I know I could use one of those."

"You get a break the day we fly to Korea," Victor said. "And the day after to rest."

"How thoughtful of you," Yuuri replied. They still refused to look at each other.

"I'm getting a bit tired," Yuri lied. "I think I might try and head to bed early tonight. I've got a big day of nothing prepared for tomorrow."

"You should pack for Four Continents, we'll be there for the whole competition so you'll need to have enough clothes," Yuuri said. "Make sure to check the weather and pack accordingly."

"I know how to pack d-Yuuri," Yuri rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a worrywart, I've done this before."

"I don't think he can," Victor laughed softly. "Worry is Yuuri's middle name, don't know why he picked a name that rhymed with his middle name."

"That's because it doesn't in Japanese," Yuuri smiled slightly, briefly glancing at Victor out of the corner of his eye.

Yuri stared down at his plate, if anything it had only managed to get more awkward during the time he had been talking to Otabek. If the two of them didn't start talking to each other soon he was sure the house would fall apart from the tension, there was only so much strain one building could take and this would almost certainly exceed that soon.

"Yeah I think I'm going to go to bed now," Yuri stood up and slowly made his way into the kitchen to throw away what he hadn't eaten and stick his plate in the sink. "You two should uh...talk?"

Yuri hopped over to the table where he had left his crutch and then hobbled over to the living room where his other crutch was sitting and then he headed straight to his room and shut the door behind him. As soon as the door latched he buried his face in his hands as best he could and groaned. "Why am I surrounded by idiots?" He grumbled to himself.

Once he unburied his face he decided not to worry about it too much. As long as they made up soon it wouldn't be a problem and with as lovey dicey as they usually were he couldn't imagine they would take more than a day or two to solve whatever it was.

He hadn't bothered to get dressed that morning so he changed into a clean set of pajamas and tossed the dirty ones into his hamper and sat on his bed. Dinner had been too bland and too awkward for him to eat much, so he still intended on waiting until he heard Victor and Yuuri heading to bed and then sneaking out to the kitchen to grab himself some food.

Waiting for the sound of the chairs around the table to be pushed in and the door to the other bedroom to open and close turned out to be the shortest wait of the day. Yuri waited an additional ten minutes on top of that before heading back out to the kitchen,this time without a crutch, to scavenge himself some dinner. He ended up eating a handful of lunch meat in front of the fridge.

Once his stomach had stopped grumbling at him, he realized how tired he actually was which was surprising considering how little he had done that day. He shut the fridge door with a yawn and limped back to his room ready to crawl into bed.

He pretended not to notice that Victor went to bed on the couch that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been a while. Sorry about that, I got super busy and then a lot of shit happened and I've been dealing with that and I kind of fell out of writing for a while there. Im sorry if this doesn't seem to flow well with the rest of the story or if anybody is out of character, I tried my best. Also please keep in mind that this isn't edited, I would prefer if you keep any mistakes you notice to yourself. 
> 
> If you're still reading this thank you so much! I worked really hard to write what's already there and I probably worked even harder to get this chapter done. Knowing there are people who might enjoy this really keeps me going. Please leave feedback if you're so inclined, it would greatly motivate me toward getting this finished. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Im transguykeith on tumblr if you want to come yell at me


End file.
